


Alpha Terror

by Arcs



Series: Alpha Games [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 'explained' magic, Angst, F/M, Lydia is a mastermind, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Memory Alteration, Multiple Pov, Original Character(s), Philosophy, fanfiction season 3, implicitly sexual everyone else, magic!Lydia, sexually explicit Sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-18
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 12:12:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 60,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/515118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcs/pseuds/Arcs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The battle starts, unexpectedly. </p><p>This is the second half of Alpha Games.</p><p>Season 2 just ended but Season 3 is too far away!<br/>I've tried to stay true to the nature of the original universe, but since S3 seems scheduled to include at least a dozen more characters and flesh out many others, there is only so much I can predict.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Derek

**Author's Note:**

> The Alpha Pack does some pretty horrible stuff.  
> This is rated explicit for reasons beyond the sex.

The new Hale House was complete on Monday, July 11th 2011\. It was two stories tall along with a basement and an attic, two dozen rooms of varying purposes, a huge living room that could easily fit a pack of twenty, a kitchen able to comfortably make food for twenty, and enough bathrooms to make the mornings easy on everyone.

Derek and Peter had been living at the house in half-complete rooms since the previous full moon. When all was said and done and the final black trim went onto the white house, Boyd and Erica moved in, too. School had let out for the summer. Everyone trained everyday and enjoyed spending time together in the house, but many of their parents weren't in the know, so many of them slept at home and came right back the next day.

The oppressive summer heat was kept at bay both by daily trips to the swimming hole and countless new trees all around the Hale property. If Lydia wasn't bolstering the trees already growing around the house, she twinned roses gardens everywhere and threw in an exotic tree here and there for good measure.

Derek fell in love with the new forest more than he could comfortably say. As hundreds of years of hearty growth happened in less than a minute, day after day after day, Derek was all too happy to let Lydia do whatever she wanted. Lydia was smart enough that Derek didn't have to worry about her drawing unwanted attention. She was also smart enough to build the forest into a death-trap for unwanted intruders.

Vines attached to traps that a running werewolf could clip to hurt whatever might be chasing them. Pitfalls remained simply pitfalls for now. Later, Lydia planned to add things to the bottom of the pitfalls, like spikes of wolfsbane. More than a few spaces were reserved for future growths for when the fight drew closer.

Derek loved the huge banyan tree grown on the north side of the property and the silver willow tree by the swimming hole above all the rest of Lydia's new additions. It was a good thing Lydia didn't have the nose of a werewolf. She might have been offended if she knew Derek and Stiles had fucked more than once near where she liked to sit and read.

Lydia would probably have been offended by a lot of things if she had the abilities of a werewolf. The interior walls had been built well, but wood and insulation could only dampen so much sound. Derek didn't mind hearing everything. He had grown up in that sort of environment and the rest of the Pack quickly adjusted to what it meant to live together. Jackson still made inappropriate comments occasionally, but much less than did a month ago. Derek laughed when Stiles had to remove his bracelet to stop from hearing a house full of horny teenagers.

Stiles had his own room, but spent most of his nights in Derek's. They had already fucked in almost every free room in the house before it was completed. Stiles had a habit of bringing new diagrams of sexual positions to Derek's attention, and Derek was all too happy to oblige.

Derek had stayed away from directly saying the L-word, but he accidentally referred to Stiles as his anchor one night. Derek didn't want to talk about it. Instead, they had amazing sex and Stiles started a running joke about getting a tattoo of an anchor on his body. It made Derek smile when Stiles pointed out parts of his freckled skin and said, 'how about here? Or maybe here? Do you think an anchor on my ass would be appropriate? I think it would be.'

Even with the looming alpha pack tempering his lofty feelings of knowing Stiles was his, Derek finally felt like he was home again. It was a feeling he was not going to let slip through his fingers. He would do whatever it took and seize every advantage if it meant success in the coming battle.

This led to Derek training the hardest of anyone. When Stiles complained of soreness, and then only that one time when he forgot to wear his bracelet to bed, Derek wondered what that felt like. Having always possessed supernatural healing meant that training only ended when something else came up, or he ran out of food and energy.

When Danny suggested they learn a martial art, after easily kicking everyone's asses and giving his alphas a run for their money, Danny started leading some of the training sessions. When Danny suggested instructional videos in addition to sparing, Derek and Danny were the only ones that didn't subtly vanish partway through the exercise.

It was hard giving up his innate position of authority to Danny, even if only for a few hours each day. But having Scott as a fellow alpha was worse. Scott had forced him to reconsider everything he knew about pack dynamics. After all, like Stiles had said, they were people, not animals. Democracy had worked for the alpha pack. Democracy would work for them.

If Stiles wasn't there, Derek knew he would have done something stupid and damaging to the pack. Scott turned out to be a great alpha. Much better than Derek had been in his first months in power. It was devastating to witness how effective Scott was at bringing Isaac back into the fold. Seeing Scott iron out the emotional issues that developed from the pressure to do well was yet another thing Derek just couldn't do. Derek would have fallen back into his old self at this secondary abandonment, if not for Stiles.

Stiles was a lifesaver. Stiles was his anchor. Morgan was not taking Stiles away.

Derek still silently hoped every day that he wouldn't fuck things up with Stiles, but three months had gone by and they were still together. They had arguments occasionally, but they weren't that bad. Derek hadn't fucked it up. Stiles was still his. He was still Stiles's.

Stiles didn't have to hold Derek's hand anymore to trigger his bracelet. Some of the effects were becoming permanent, too. Stiles could hear and see better and his night vision was instant instead of taking fifteen minutes like a normal human. He was stronger than he should have been for his size, but remained lean. He was as tall as Derek now, and would probably grow taller in the years to come, but that was probably due more to teenage growth than to Stiles's bracelet.

On Thursday July 14th, one day before the full Thunder Moon, and one month before the fight with the alpha pack, they had a housewarming party.

Flashes of falling for Kate was the only thing that kept Derek from telling Stiles that Stiles was the most important person in his life. While everyone was either filtering to bed or back home after the party, he didn't have to say the words. The pack bond did that for him.

Derek was loading the dishwasher and smiling at life while Stiles moved around the room picking up trash and throwing it away. Like a tiny spark at the edge of his consciousness, Derek was all too aware of Stiles in a matter more profound than his scent or the constant stream of words coming from his mouth. It was small, but it was undoubtedly the pack bond. Gingerly, he put down a dirty wine glass. Derek didn't turn around to see if Stiles had felt the moment. He didn't know if he could handle it if Stiles was completely unaware of what had just happened.

Warm and welcoming arms wrapped around his chest as Stiles pressed into his back and kissed his neck. Derek reached up and held Stiles's hands. As Stiles hugged him harder, Derek felt warmth and comfort and love.

Stiles said, “I love you too, Derek.”

“I'm sorry I didn't know how to say it before. But... I love you, Stiles.”

“I know. My god, that feels good. Is this how it is with everyone?”

Derek smiled, “Definitely not like this with everyone. Not like this at all.”

Derek slipped around in Stiles's grip and pushed him up onto the island counter in the middle of the kitchen. Everything was wonderfully hard and sloppy as Stiles's legs and arms wrapped around Derek and their lips opened for each other. Scott might have walked in on them, but he walked right back out without saying a word.

Stiles broke away from the kiss, “I want to fuck you. Outside.”

Derek unwrapped himself, slapped Stiles on the ass, and said, “Catch me first.”

He took off running. The mess from the party remained mostly untouched.

The nearly-full moon cast welcoming pools of light all across the Hale property. Derek let himself be caught underneath the silver willow by the swimming hole. A gentle tackle drove Derek spinning to the ground with white-eye'd Stiles ending up on top, his ass pressed firmly down onto Derek's crotch. Derek wrapped his hands around Stiles's waist and bucked up, his hard cock strained through his pants to press against Stiles.

Derek said, “You sure you don't want me to fuck you?”

Stiles unbuttoned Derek's shirt, “Oh no. Not this time. Besides, your ass needs to be fucked and my cock is the one to do it. It's a crime to not fuck that ass of yours. You wouldn't want to make me a criminal, would you?”

“You made me one, once. Every time we fuck, actually. It would only be fair.”

Derek smiled, twisted away from Stiles, and rid himself of his clothes. Stiles stripped and grabbed a small tube of lube from his shorts. Derek waited nude and hard in the moonlight for Stiles to make a move. Stiles just smiled and stared.

Derek said, “What?”

“You're so damn sexy. I love it when you smile. I love your alpha eyes. I love making you hard.”

“I love it when you fuck me.”

Stiles tackled him again. Derek landed backwards on the ground, forced to look upward into Stiles's blazing white eyes. With the moon as a halo and the silver willow cascading around them, Stiles locked lips with Derek and wrapped a hand around Derek's pulsing cock.

One of Derek's legs ended up on Stiles's shoulder as Stiles's lubed fingers explored Derek's crack and pressed inward. Derek gasped, but this wasn't his first time on the receiving end. Soon, Stiles's fingers were replaced with his throbbing cock. Stiles lifted Derek's ass and pushed in. Derek dug his fingers into the soil and pushed back onto Stiles.

Stiles kissed Derek's neck and sucked on his nipples as he ran a hand over Derek's cock in rhythm to precise fucking. Derek groaned and locked them together with his free leg. Stiles kept his mouth on Derek's while slowly fucking Derek's cares away. Derek tensed as he tried to hold back the orgasm that Stiles's hands and cock kept trying to pull out of him. Derek didn't want this moment to end yet. Stiles smirked, knowing exactly what Derek was doing.

Stiles said, “Come for me, Derek. Just do it. I'm almost there.”

Stiles bent down and took the head of Derek's cock into his mouth and held his own cock firm against Derek's prostate. The first time Stiles did this it was amazing, this time was no different. Derek came and Stiles kept swallowing. As his orgasm finished Stiles straightened up and pushed once into Derek, filling him with come. Derek held them together until well after Stiles stopped pulsing.

Derek said, “I love you.”

Stiles said, “I love you, too.”

Derek reached up and pulled Stiles down into a kiss. Stiles laid atop Derek as they locked lips and found comfort in each other's warmth. Small breezes and long tickling branches of the willow tree elicited occasional laughs from both of them. Derek smiled and held Stiles tighter. They fucked again, this time with Derek on top. The spark of a bond turned into a radiating flame. Both of them, sticky and spent for now, held each other in the afterglow.

Stiles said, “I'm covered in come. I'm going for a swim. Care to join me?”

After a dip in the swimming hole and Derek fucking Stiles against the willow one more time, they gathered their clothes and went back to the house. Boyd and Erica were sleeping. Peter was in his room not sleeping. Everyone else had gone for the night.

Peter and Lydia were getting along well. Scott was a great co-alpha. Everyone was getting better at fighting. Full moons no longer held the danger of uncontrolled instincts since Danny became Pack. The Sheriff had begun to openly, but not publicly, approve of Derek. Stiles was Derek's, and Derek was Stiles's. They smelled like each other more than themselves these days. And now Stiles had that spark of a pack bond.

It was the best day and night Derek had had in a long time.

_Mom would've loved Stiles. They'd've all loved Stiles._

Derek held Stiles as they fell asleep.

 

It was 5:00 am and still dark outside. Derek woke to Erica screaming.

Derek shot out of bed, claws out with his wolf-face on. Stiles instantly followed. Their eyes blazed red and white as they tore down the hallway to Erica and Boyd's room. The door was open. The smell of blood was everywhere. Boyd was crying, too.

Erica and Boyd huddled together in the darkened corner of the room. Derek didn't sense that either of them were physically damaged.

The window was open. A clawed hand had torn groves in the wood. Two unfamiliar bowling ball sized objects bled out on the bed. Another one had left sticky spots as it rolled across the floor, coming to a rest near the closet. Derek stood back and tried to focus through the sobbing and fear in the room.

Derek said, “No one is here. We're safe.”

Stiles's eyes went wide and his pulse skyrocketed in recognition of what the objects were, if not who they used to be. Stiles went to Erica and Boyd and huddled with them. Erica and Boyd grabbed onto him and held tight.

Stiles said, “You're not hurt. We're not in a fight right now. Let's get out of here. Come on.”

Erica and Boyd were strong but this was not something they were ready to handle. It was not something Derek was exactly ready to handle either. Erica and Boyd clutched to Stiles and quickly left the room. Peter stood aside and watched as the three teens walked by.

Derek concentrated on his pack. Everyone was tense and awake. All of them were coming here. Derek's phone rang back in his room. Peter nodded to Derek before going off to answer the incessant noise. Derek avoided puddles of blood as he went to the window to look for a trail. Pinpricks of red light stared back from a tall tree on the edge of the property.

Morgan's voice whispered on the wind. “This is what you get for not giving me Stiles. In a week, I'll kill another pair of parents. And again the next week. And then once more for the full set. In a month, I'll ask you one last time for Stiles before we rip apart your fledgling pack. This can end any time you choose to end it.”

Morgan dropped out of sight.

Stiles's voice caught Derek a moment before he leapt from the window to give chase.

“Derek!” Stiles's voice cracked, “I heard him. Don't- Don't you dare go alone. Not yet. Never alone.”

Derek backed away from the window. The tail end of Peter's phone call was Scott taking it upon himself to inform everyone else of what had happened. Peter stopped at the entrance to Erica and Boyd's room before walking away again.

Derek detached himself from the situation and proceeded to clean up the horror. He picked up the heads and separated them by smell. This one had to be Erica's father. These two must be Boyd's foster parents.

Peter appeared with cleaning supplies. He helped Derek erase the physical evidence.

Peter asked, “Are we starting early?”

Derek spoke through clenched teeth, “Soon.”

Erica and Boyd's cries shot through the house.

_The world can burn. I'm not giving up Stiles._

_It's the right choice, isn't it?_


	2. Lydia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia makes some connections.  
> Stiles makes some, too.

Lydia strolled through the halls of MIT and shook hands with her heroes. The fact that it was a dream was readily apparent, for many of those she met were already dead, but it was a good dream and Lydia was having fun. Her hair was perfect under a crown of blood-red roses. Her celestial black dress fluttered in a gentle breeze.

History had lined up to congratulate her. Lydia loved every second of it.

She spoke to Albert Einstein, “Thank you for helping to end World War Two and discovering Relativity. I'll work on feeding the world and developing warp drive. Thank you for your contributions, Albert.”

Albert Einstein said, “All hail Queen Lydia.”

She spoke to Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz and Isaac Newton, “Calculus was fun. So were your old physical laws. I've moved on. Thank you for your contributions, both of you.”

Newton and Leibinz fought in trying to praise Lydia more highly than the other. Lydia simply smiled and walked on.

She spoke to Stephen Hawking, “Let me help you there, Stephen.”

At her touch Hawking stood up from his chair, strong and able in body just as in mind. He started to speak, but Lydia cut him off.

Lydia said, “Please don't thank me. It is the least I could do for all you've done for me. Thank you for your contributions.”

She spoke to Bill Nye the Science Guy, “I loved your show while I was growing up. Really did a bang up job with all of that. Thank you for your contributions.”

Bill said, “Fuck yeah! Do us proud, Queen Lydia!”

She walked past a mirror to check herself. Her eyes glowed brilliant red and shone stronger by the second. Lydia smiled and continued on.

She paused at the strung up corpses of the alpha pack. Lydia cascaded rose seeds from her hand and commanded them grow. Blood flowed from the ground as the vines shot up and dragged the bodies beneath the earth. As the vines burst into flower, droplets of blood misted into the air.

Lydia laughed.

 

The bed shook and Lydia woke up. Jackson threw on a shirt and a pair of shorts. He moved like someone was attacking.

Lydia shot awake, “What's happening? Are they here?”

Jackson said, “Someone died. None of us. Not directly. Something happened to Boyd and Erica. That's all I know. Are you coming?”

Lydia jumped out of bed, “Yes.”

She quickly got dressed in what she would be comfortable wearing for the rest of the day. Now was not the time for makeup or dressing properly if Jackson's demeanor was anything to go by. By the time she finished, in only ten minutes too, Jackson was already impatiently waiting downstairs by the front door.

Jackson said, “We're taking too long. This is not acceptable, Lydia. We trained for this sort of thing.”

Lydia didn't respond. Jackson wasn't trying to be difficult just because he could, he was genuinely concerned about the Pack. Lydia walked a little bit faster. They got into Jackson's car and peeled out of the driveway. Lydia left a text for her parents so they wouldn't worry when they woke up, then she dialed Stiles.

Stiles answered, “Lydia! Are you coming here? Did Scott talk to you yet?”

Lydia looked over to Jackson for an answer.

Jackson said, “I forgot my phone back at your house. He might have.”

Lydia said, “Maybe. We left the house in a hurry. We're on our way to you now. What happened?”

Stiles paused, “... Morgan murdered Boyd's foster parents and Erica's father. He dumped the heads onto them while they were sleeping.”

Lydia tried to wrap her head around what she had just heard. Jackson's eyes glared blue.

Stiles said, “Are you still there? Lydia?”

“We're halfway to you now. See you soon.”

She ended the call.

Jackson said, “What are we going to do? Is it starting?”

“I don't know. I'm thinking.”

 

They were the last to arrive at the Hale House. Danny had waited for them on the porch. Jackson parked the car and they hopped out to follow Danny into the house. The rest of the Pack sat in the living room.

Derek stood on the edge of the room. Erica and Boyd sat in the middle of the couch with Scott on one side and Isaac on the other. Stiles paced. Peter sat in a chair and watched.

Erica and Boyd were not crying. Lydia counted that as an improvement from what she expected to find. Scott looked Lydia and Jackson over as they entered the room.

Scott said, “Are we starting early?”

Lydia said, “If we're really discussing this, let me do something first. It will take about ten minutes.”

Derek nodded and said, “Do it.”

Stiles said, “I'll help.”

Peter followed Stiles and Lydia as they went out the front door.

Stiles said, “We can't use mountain ash. It would trap everyone here...”

Peter said, “We figured out a way around that. Didn't we, Lydia?”

Lydia said, “Yes. We have. Besides, I can't grow a rowan tree. Using magic to grow something anti-magical? I've tried, it doesn't work. Sorry Stiles, you won't be able to do much this time. But you can watch.”

One of Lydia's main endeavors with Peter had been to figure out how to duplicate the anti-spying and protection qualities of mountain ash without having a restrictive seal. With that in mind, Lydia had prevented anything from growing directly surrounding the house. She saved this space for something like what she was about to do right now.

Lydia walked next to the freshly painted exterior of the house and opened her purse. She selected a rose seed from her pillbox and bent down to press it into the soil. Green vines twisted in the moonlight and clung to the house as they grew upward. In a moment of sparkling darkness, the vines took the well-crafted shape of an eye gazing out into the night. Red roses bloomed for the iris of a central eye as the vine continued to twine into dozens of smaller eyes.

Stiles said, “What was all that?”

Peter held a finger to his mouth and shushed Stiles. They walked around the house, stopping for Lydia to repeat the process eleven more times. Soon, red rose eyes surrounded the house. When Lydia was finished, they were back at the front door. Lydia knew it was working when she stepped through thick clinging air to get back inside the house. Peter and Stiles walked through without a hint of a problem. Stiles pushed a hand through the door to feel the air.

Lydia said, “It's safe to talk. This is probably the safest house in the city, now.”

Stiles moved his hand around in the doorway, “Okay. What is all of this?”

Lydia said, “Protection from Evil through use of the Warding Eye and Life Magic. Effects include barred entry to hostile forces and inability to spy on the contents of the warded building.”

Stiles pulled his hand back and looked at Peter, “Real proof that Peter isn't working with the alpha pack? Great!”

Lydia smiled and said, “He taught me this. Of course, it might all be one great big trick.”

Peter said, “I'm hurt. You wound me, both of you.”

Lydia said, “Even death couldn't wound you. I doubt words can.”

Peter smiled and left it at that.

They walked back into the living room. The blinds had been drawn close. Erica downed a cup of something. Boyd leaned backwards and stared at the ceiling. Derek glared at Lydia and Peter.

Derek said, “Why didn't you do that sooner?”

Lydia almost tore into all the reasons why that question was in poor taste. But it would have done nothing besides incite anger. Lydia took a deep breath and exhaled, calming down.

Lydia said, “It is done now.”

Peter said, “We were going to do it tomorrow during the full moon for the full effect. Come now, Derek. Not all magic can be done whenever it is desired.”

Jackson said, “Has anyone spoken to the police? Is that going to be a problem?”

Stiles said, “It shouldn't be an issue. I talked to my dad right before you two got here. They're already at the crime scenes. He's coming over here in a few hours.”

Erica spoke flatly, “I want to rip off Morgan's head. We're going to do that, right?”

Derek said, “Yes. We just need a way to find them, first.”

Erica leveled her gaze at Lydia, “Do you know how? Please tell me yes.”

Lydia said, “Peter never studied any of that. Monica refuses to teach me anything along those lines.”

Peter said, “Derek's ability to hear should be magnified with Scott in the pack. Can't you two hear anything?”

Derek said, “I can't hear them and Morgan is impossible to track. I've tried. Scott?”

Scott said, “I haven't been hearing anything either.”

Erica said, “If we torture Monica, would she tell us the spells we need to know?”

Lydia doubted the Pack's ability to attack and capture Monica alive, let alone her own ability to make Monica tell them anything useful. Peter might be able to torture answers out of Monica, but going that route would make the Hale pack enemies of whatever organization Monica was a part of.

Lydia said, “Maybe. But the repercussions are too unknown to really consider that an option.”

Boyd said, “What about Alan? Would he know?”

Stiles said, “Alan has already refused to teach me how to find someone. Both he and Monica have refused any of that knowledge to Lydia or myself. They either don't know it, we just can't do it, or they don't like the idea of anyone being able to find who they work for.”

Danny said, “Are they really on our side? Weren't they supposed to be taking care of Gerard? Look how that ended up.”

Lydia said, “Whatever organization they are a part of is likely directly involved with the alpha pack.”

The room went quiet. Lydia waited for a reaction.

Scott's eyes flared red, “How do you know that? How long have you known that? Did you know this, Stiles?”

Stiles said, “Dude. Stop with the angry eyes. I've had my suspicions of Monica for a while now just because of how Alan talks about her, but she is still teaching Lydia. We're getting stronger because of Monica.”

“Actually...,” Lydia said, “She is very subtle and I didn't catch it at first, but I caught on after Peter told me I was growing things well before I started learning from Monica. I've been playing along with her for a while now and pretending that Peter still terrifies me so she won't catch on. Monica refuses to answer questions that aren't readily apparent when I go looking through documentation. She hasn't actually willingly taught me anything, ever.”

Stiles said, “Alan tells me things all the time. I even got to shoot lightning from a staff... but that didn't work out too well.”

Scott said, “What the fuck, Lydia! How can you just play along like that?”

Lydia said, “She trips up occasionally. She tells me things she shouldn't have.”

Scott said, “And how much about us have you told her?”

Lydia smiled, “Nothing she didn't already know. Whoever they are, they're well connected and highly knowledgeable. And they refuse to let people into their circle. ”

Derek said, “Why do you think they're working with the alpha pack?”

Lydia said, “'Working with' is probably too strong of a phrase. It's probably more like, 'you stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours,' or 'do it this way and we'll give you some concessions.' That sort of thing.”

Jackson asked, “Can we still give them Stiles to make them go away?”

Scott said, “No! None of us are going anywhere!”

Jackson looked hurt at Scott's vehement refusal. Lydia saw Stiles's and Derek's pain on their drained faces and in their postures. They knew the offer was still available but hesitated to tell anyone, and now Lydia knew too. Stiles was about to speak but Lydia spoke louder.

“We're not sacrificing Stiles.” Lydia glanced at Stiles and saw a bit of color return to his face, “I know nothing about the organization Alan and Monica work with or what their goals are, but one of their goals has to be understanding new magic. As for the Gerard mess, that was probably orchestrated by these unknown people. I think this because Alan and Monica indicated that their organization was going to solve the problem. That could have been a lie, but I doubt that it was. I believe that the Sheriff was supposed to die and someone else was supposed to kill Gerard for the alpha power. I would think the proper way to test out new magic would have been to have either Danny, Jackson, or fully-pseudo-werewolf-Stiles kill Gerard. Anything else would be something they would have likely seen before. In this case, since the plan was to kill the Sheriff, they probably hoped that Stiles would have been the one to kill Gerard.”

Stiles said, “The only thing that makes this place different from anywhere else is the Kanima. So that drew them here... But after getting here the alpha pack found other things.”

Lydia said, “If the alpha pack was behind that Gerard crap, they would have done it right. They would have been able to hear you all talking and change their plans accordingly. If they had any involvement at all, things would have come out differently. For instance: They could have just dumped Gerard in front of Stiles and Derek while they were alone and shot Derek with a wolfsbane bullet.”

Scott said, “So Gerard wasn't a joint venture. It was just Monica and Alan's organization?”

Stiles said, “No way! Alan is a great guy. He wouldn't exploit anyone. He's even a vegetarian.”

Jackson said, “Must be evil. You can't trust a vegetarian.”

Danny said, “Not the right time for a joke, Jax.”

Peter said, “I doubt Alan is in on it. He has been helping this family, and werewolves in general, for a long time. I know that their organization is split into two and those halves don't really like each other, but they still work together for some reason. Alan and Monica are probably on opposite sides of their organization.”

Stiles let out a sign of relief, “You couldn't have said that sooner than now? ”

Peter said, “It never seemed relevant until now.”

Lydia said, “That's good news, then. This smacks of someone pulling strings and those strings getting tangled on reality. If I know anything, it's that plans and reality rarely mix well. If Stiles trusts Alan then I will too. The fact that Stiles is still learning totally new things should be a good indication that Alan is being honest with him and us. Monica... We shouldn't trust her. We can't trust her.”

Erica got louder as she spoke, “That's nice that you puzzled this all out. But how do we find them?” She stood up. Her claws flashed out, “I'm tired of waiting! I want Morgan's head!”

Lydia said, “I'm trying to lay it all out here. If we go through all that we know something is bound to pop up. Hopefully something useful.”

Erica collapsed and wrapped herself around Boyd. She buried her head into Boyd's chest and started to cry. Lydia felt sorry that she couldn't do more.

Stiles spoke up, “I might have a way.”

Lydia was honestly surprised. The idea that Stiles was hiding something was too strange to consider, let alone that he might actually have a way to find the alpha pack. But, obviously, he was hiding something. Something that Alan might have taught him, even if Alan refused to teach a locating spell? Lydia tried to think of what Stiles's secret could be.

_Strings... Always getting tangled and sometimes pulling up surprises. I know all too well about plans and reality not mixing properly._

Erica turned and stared at Stiles. She waited for him to say something else.

Stiles grinned to hide his fright, “Oh my god, this is embarrassing. You're all looking at me an-”

Erica interrupted, “Speak, Stiles!”

Stiles gulped and continued, “I've barely been touching this connection for the last three months. It's kinda scary when a tiny touch gets me all the way to fake-wolfed-out. I could try going all the way just to see what would happen. We know that more alphas make each other stronger. Ergo, more power might just do the same thing.”

_That... was unexpected. Could he be trying for a feedback loop? I don't think that works with outer magic..._

Everyone waited for someone else to say something. Derek walked over to stand beside Stiles. Peter took a step away to give them room. Erica was the first to bring out her wolf-eyes. Everyone else soon followed.

Boyd said, “Do it.”

Erica said, “Do it, Stiles.”

Stiles said, “Um. Okay. Yeah. Sure. I saw Jackson try to shift all the way once. This is gonna hurt like hell, but it might work. Um. It works better if you all concentrate on me, I think. So yeah, there's tha-”

Stiles gasped and bent over. His hands grabbed his knees as all the glowing eyes in the room focused on him. Even Lydia flinched as a tiny spark of something touched her mind. Lydia put her hand into Jackson's welcoming grip and concentrated. She imagined standing on the edge of the pack bond, and she was there. Stiles was a tiny whirling light in the center of a thousand strands of were-magic. Lydia tried not to feel jealous.

_When did Stiles develop the bond? He made it seem like it should have taken years. I can't maintain it without concentration and direct touch, but he can do it all on his own?_

Danny said, “Even I can feel that now. You're like a tornado, Stiles.”

Isaac said, “Stiles has a pack bond? When?”

Derek said, “It happened a few hours ago.”

Stiles stood up. His eyes blazed white light. As he blinked the room flashed darker.

Lydia floated somewhere between a jealous rage and abject wonder. A wild smile played across Peter's lips as he glanced back and forth between Lydia and Stiles.

_Well fuck you very much, Peter. You knew something like this was going to happen. Why not tell me? Oh. I see. You're getting a kick out of every part of this, aren't you?_

Stiles said to Scott, “Hey Scott. Get over here. Sheash.”

Scott walked over and reached his hand out. Derek put his hand on top of Scott's and waited for Stiles to join them. Stiles hesitated, took a step forward, and placed his hand on their's.

Radiant light filled the air as light bulbs burst throughout the room. Lydia tried to shield her eyes but she had already been caught by the flash. Jackson held onto her as a pulse of wind broke windows and tried to knock her away.

Peter said, “You're missing it, Lydia. Open your eyes. Can you see yet?”

Lydia opened her eyes but couldn't see. A crack of thunder shook the house. Lydia's eyesight gradually returned as the voices in the room turned frantic.

Scott said, “What the hell!”

Derek's voice trailed off, “Stiles!”

Erica said, “What happened? I can't see!”

The room was still dark except for the glowing eyes of the Pack. Something had escaped through a nearby window. Derek was gone but Lydia heard him yelling from outside, probably giving chase to whatever broke the window.

_Wait. Stiles isn't here. How far did he shift? Why did he escape? Did he go rabid? Oh. No..._

Scott looked backwards to the Pack and to Lydia.

Scott said, “Are you all okay? Lydia, is whatever you did still active?”

Lydia broke away from Jackson grip and maintained her composure, “Let me check.” She walked to the window and felt thick air in the open space, “Yes. Still there. This was Stiles's doing, wasn't it? What happened?”

Scott ignored the questions, “If you're safe here then stay here. I'm going with Derek to get Stiles back.”

Scott leapt out the window. Delayed fury flashed through Lydia's whole body when Scott didn't answer her questions. Lydia turned around and stepped towards Jackson and Danny.

Lydia asked, “What happened? Does anyone have a flashlight?”

Danny said, “I was not expecting that.”

Jackson said, “What _is_ he?”

Lydia barely controlled her anger, “What happened? Details, now. _Answer me, please_.”

Peter laughed and smiled, “In trying to think of a term to best describe what he actually is, that term would probably be 'chimera'. This is likely do to the influences of Danny, Jackson, two very close alphas, yourself, and his own spark of magic. Despite the name, Stiles looked rather similar to a classical European dragon. Relatively frail appearance. Pure white. About the size of himself but with wings and a tail. There were probably other features too, but I didn't get a very good look before he flew away.”

_Flew away? Fucking seriously. You're serious right now. Aren't you, Peter?_

Lightning struck somewhere close. Thunder shook the house.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. dragon!Stiles.  
> I like dragons. For reasons.


	3. Stiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles grows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd, like always.  
> Sorry if there are small mistakes.

Stiles felt everything in that touchy feel-y sort of nature-y way that some new age shamans liked to drone on about. He felt the world on his bright white scales and it was confining. A glance towards Derek earned Stiles a glimpse of his reflection in Derek's concerned eyes.

The idea that he could see all of himself in the eyes of another, from two paces away, was a scary half-thought that came and went as fast as lightning. His vision was beyond perfect, he could even see the strands of dark inner magic that knit the pack together.

He held most of his previous shape, but now he had a tail at the base of his spine and leathery wings coming out of his back. His clothes laid shredded on the floor. He was completely naked, and if he didn't realize he had claws like a velociraptor's at the end of each finger and toe, he might have accidentally sliced something off in trying to cover himself. He tried to speak. Thunder came out. Windows broke. Stiles was more than embarrassed, he was terrified.

The wind rushing through the windows called to him. The gentle howling promised freedom from himself and from earthly concerns. Stiles did not look back as he flashed through the broken window and into the lifting winds of the night sky. He felt born for this. Flying felt natural. As he stared into the swirling skies lightning arced through his body. It tickled in a great way. He played with the lighting as though they were friendly snakes, obeying his every whim.

At a thought, lighting struck a few trees that Lydia hadn't gotten to yet. She wouldn't mind it if Stiles blew them up, so he did.

So what if the alpha pack was hunting their parents and coming after his Pack. He would rip the alpha pack apart and hand Morgan's head to Erica and Boyd as a wedding gift. They would like that. Then he would blast apart the Argents and all the other hunters with a few lightning strikes. If more came, then he would kill them too.

His goals became crystal clear: Kill the alpha pack, then the hunters, then have sex with Derek in their blood. It was a good plan.

_Oh. I'll probably have to kill Monica. Not right now, though. But it is good to have long term goals. Maybe I can even help torture her for the benefit of the Pack._

Something nagged at him while he hovered in the middle of a lightning storm.

Derek was directly below him and yelling orders. His voice broke in small worried noises that were probably in English, but Stiles wasn't concerned enough to listen.

Scott was far below, too. He was a bit less rough with his calls. More 'Stiles come back!' and less 'Dammit, Stiles! Don't go off on your own!' It had quickly become annoying.

Stiles's voice boomed like thunder, “Can't you two see that I'm reveling up here? Let me enjoy this for a while before we get to the killing.”

They flinched at the sound of Stiles's voice. Of course they would flinch, Stiles was much stronger than them. It was good that they learned their place so quickly. Stiles would not need to teach them.

Then something else caught his attention. Three somethings, actually. They sat together, miles into the forest. None of them moving, all of them just sitting there on the edges of Stiles's territory and growing more agitated by the second. Giant balls of dark were-magic, they were. Their ethereal threads of darkness twisted and tangled as Stiles stared at them.

Oh right, he was supposed to kill the alpha pack. They were threatening his home. His territory. That was not allowed to be. Stiles desired their blood. He wanted to shred them to pieces. He needed to dig his claws in deep and yank them apart. Stiles laughed at himself.

“Am I a cat-dragon wanting to play with balls of yarn?”

Stiles hovered in mid-air and called below.

Stiles spoke, “Derek! Scott! I see the alpha spies! I'm going to kill them now. You may join me if you wish.”

Derek said, “Stiles! Come back!”

“Why should I come back? I want to kill them. They hurt Erica and Boyd. And they think they have power over me. I will not allow such an evil thought to be thought!”

Scott said to Derek, “I don't think he can understand us.”

“I can understand you! Can you not understand me? I'm speaking English over here.”

Derek said to Scott, “He's waiting for us. He can understand us but all he can do is roar.”

Scott said to Derek, “I thought outer magic couldn't affect the mind?”

“Of course it can't! I am better than that, now. If I didn't love you, you'd be dead for your idiocy, Scotty. But. Hmm... That isn't exactly fair. You had a lot on your plate this year and you managed to pull it together at the end. Proceeded to the next year, just fine. Maybe you can follow this.”

Stiles pointed to the three clumps of were-magic miles deep into the forest. He knew the targets were out of Derek's and Scott's range, but he hoped they wouldn't disappoint him. Derek and Scott looked at him, then in the directions he pointed. After a second of comprehension, they nodded.

“Thank you for your comprehension! Time to kill!”

Stiles concentrated. Lighting simultaneously struck the three balls of were-magic. Anguished cries echoed into the night. Stiles roared. The wind howled with him. Lightning streaked across the night sky as Stiles dove towards his prey.

Derek and Scott dropped out of sight when Stiles flew faster than they could run. The three targets tried to take off running, too. Two of them got three steps before they collapsed to the ground. The third, Stiles's first target, lurched, his were-magic flickering as he tried to run. Stiles dropped below the tree tops and saw, with all of his visual senses, a large gray red-eyed werewolf wrapped in strands of inner magic. Stiles laughed at a former predator being reduced to a dragon's chew toy.

Stiles wanted to play with him before he ripped him apart. But he had two other targets to take care of, _before_ they regained their strength.

The wolf turned to attack. Stiles blasted it with lightning. The wolf turned into a man and went flying through the air to strike a tree. Stiles hovered close and inspected the naked man. He looked a bit like Peter did after they burned him outside of the Hale House that one time, all crispy skin and bleeding wounds, but very much still alive.

Stiles fixed that problem with a swipe of his talons. Off came the head of a killer, and now there were only two targets left. He held onto the head with a clawed foot. It would make a good gift for Erica. It couldn't replace her father, but her father was a deadbeat anyway. Why she held feelings for a meth-head that beat her since she turned epileptic was beyond Stiles's comprehension.

_Maybe she'll be over her pain and be ready to hunt tomorrow. I shouldn't kill everyone on my own. It wouldn't be fair to the rest of the Pack. Everyone deserves a good time._

Stiles called out, “Where are you, Derek? Scott? I already got one! You're missing out!”

Stiles hopped into the air and flew towards another target. This one was a woman. Maybe in her forties, but she had red eyes too, so who knew how old she actually was. She wasn't moving much. It was easy to take her head. It wasn't Morgan's, but Boyd might like to have it anyway. A female head to replace the female foster parent that didn't want Boyd, and that Boyd didn't want either.

_Whatever. They have silly emotions. I will allow them their emotions, for now._

Stiles gripped the head in his left hand and flew back into the air. Now that Stiles took a moment to think about it: Flying had become much easier than before, even with the awkwardness of carrying two heads.

Stiles called out again, “You're missing out! Derek! Honey! _Why aren't you here yet_?”

The last target was another man with red eyes. Broken and bleeding from a lightning strike, he was almost dead anyway. Stiles helped him get there a little bit faster. His head would make the second gift for Boyd.

Three for three. It seemed balanced. For now. They whole alpha pack would have to die eventually. They were a blight that shouldn't be allowed to exist, especially since they seemed to want to kill Stiles's Pack.

Stiles set the heads down against the base of a tree in a nearby clearing. He flew upward to see where everyone was. A large complicated bundle of were-magic sat twenty miles deep in the forests to the west. It was probably the rest of the alpha pack. To the east was the town. A splash of outer magic rested inside of Alan's house, and that made perfect sense. Something dark rested in Monica's house, and that made perfect sense too.

To the northeast was his territory. Dark Lydia and her dark forest felt comfortable. The tangled threads of his Pack was home.

The rest of the town was clean. Everything within easy reach was either Stiles's pack, or Lydia's wonderfully enchanted trees. Derek and Scott still lagged behind. Stiles flew back down to the ground to wait for them.

“I haven't gone that far, have I? These idiot spies were only three miles away. Scott and Derek need to learn to run faster.”

Stiles leaned against a tree and waited. He felt his body and it felt wonderful. He longed for a mirror. He would have to find one later. Maybe after he had fucked Derek while Derek was transformed into a wolf. But Scott was coming here as well. The fucking might need to happen some other time.

Derek burst from behind a tree and halted mid-step.

Stiles said, “There you are! Finally. It's not like you've never seen me naked before. Stop staring. It's not polite to stare.”

Derek flinched backward, “You killed three of them. By yourself.”

Scott jumped from the woods and said, “Stiles! Are you okay?”

“I'm fine!”

They both covered their ears and flinched backward. Stiles grunted annoyance. It might have come out a roar from the way Scott and Derek backed away.

Stiles tried whispering, “Does this work? Can you comprehend me now?”

They both radiated relief. They both took a few steps forward. Derek came within arm's reach, but Scott held back. As Derek stood there watching Stiles, Stiles realized that he must have gained a few inches in the transformation. He had to look down to look into Derek's eyes.

Stiles chuckled, “I'm taller than you now.”

Derek said, “You killed all of them on your own?”

Stiles said, “Of course I did.”

Scott said, “Where is your bracelet, Stiles?”

Stiles looked at his arm, “Uh... I don't know... Does that matter?”

Scott said, “Shouldn't you have changed back when you lost the bracelet? How are you going to change back now? ”

“Why would I want to change back before we've kill them all? These three were the spies. The listeners. The rest of them are about twenty miles to the east. I want to kill the rest of them.”

Derek said, “You're growing, Stiles.”

“I know I am. It feels good, too.”

“Turn back before you lose control. Take a look around. You're already too tall to live inside anymore. You're changing, too. You're growing horns. Your tail...”

Stiles flexed his wings and smashed into the surrounding trees. He flexed his tail around into his hands. As he watched, spikes like shining white knives grew out of the end. As he moved, larger and much harder scales grew to replace shed, smaller scales. Tiny scales like jewels littered the clearing.

Stiles felt the need to gather them all up and put them in a box, and that was strange. They were just scales. A byproduct of growth and nothing more. They were very shiny, though.

Then he looked at Derek looking at him. Primal urges beckoned. Stiles wanted sex, and he wanted total control. Stiles wanted to tie Derek up and use him as a sex toy. He wanted to run his electrified talons across Derek's willing and hard flesh. He wanted to carve his name into Derek's skin. His urges almost took control, but Scott, embarrassingly present Scott, was also watching. It brought focus to everything that was wrong with Stiles's current desires.

_I'm a horrible person. Derek would not want that at all. Why would I even consider doing that? Kate did that to him. Multiple times! Stop thinking like that, Stiles. You're a horrible person, Stiles Stilinski._

Wind howled across the forest. Lighting split a nearby tree in half.

Scott yelled, “Why did you do that? Stiles!”

Stiles didn't do it on purpose, but he felt the need to lie, “That tree was offensive. All growing there like it owned the place. This is my territory, not some uppity tree's. You'll thank me for it, one day. That tree was thinking about growing over you in your sleep. That wouldn't be very good for your health.”

Scott said, “Did you hear what you just said? You're not okay, Stiles.”

“I'm perfectly fine. A bit nude. I would thank you not stare at me while I am like this. But whatever. I can see the appeal. I'm very shiny.”

Scott said, “I'm staring because I'm worried!”

Derek said, “You can't stay like this. Fully transforming drove Peter crazy. Jackson almost lost himself to the Kanima. You can't stay like this or you'll lose yourself, too. It's not good for your mind.”

“Maybe I like losing myself.”

Scott said, “You can't mean that. You never wanted the Bite. You always liked being you.”

“How are you going to stop me?”

Scott lost his words. Derek had to arch his neck to look up at Stiles.

Derek said, “I can't stop you. But I don't want to lose you, either.”

Stiles paused, “You're not losing me. You're gaining a dragon.”

Derek said, “Please. Trust me. If we need to, we can do this again later. Stop now while you still have control.”

Scott said, “You killed three alphas already. I can see them swirling red in your eyes. Don't turn into this. I want Stiles back.”

“Infuriating little creatures. I should kill both of you right now. You're impeding my existence.”

Derek frowned, “You're losing it, Stiles. You're growing faster and faster. Please. Stop.”

Scott said, “Would your dad want you like this? How about your mom?”

Icy fear crept into Stiles's mind. He looked at his bloodied arms and worried that he wasn't in control.

_Why am I threatening them? That's not me. I don't threaten my friends._

Stiles let go of the wind and started to shake. Glowing white scales clattered to the ground. His caduceus bracelet jangled out from beneath the scales of his wrist. The world grew larger as Stiles shrunk down into a pile of his own scales. Derek backed away from the expanding horde. The world felt manageable again. It wasn't until the bloodlust vanished that Stiles realized how far he had gone, and how far he was willing to go.

_I'm such a horrible person._

Derek took off his shirt and handed it to Stiles. It was big on Stiles, and that made him feel much less awkward in front of Scott. Stiles stepped out of the scales and into Derek's arms.

Stiles said, “I'm sorry. I don't know why I threatened you. I would never... I'm sorry.”

Derek hugged tighter, “Don't worry about it. I understand the feeling. I'm glad you're back.”

Scott said, “Me too. If you're all better: We have to get out of here. The rest of the alphas could be anywhere.”

Stiles looked towards the west. The tangled balls of were-magic were less visible now, but he could still see their general existence. Stiles rested his head on Derek's shoulder and smiled. They were safe.

“They aren't moving.”

Derek asked, “How can you tell?”

“I can see them. Like balls of black yarn sitting far to the west. About twenty miles or something. I really don't know. I've never had to judge distances while in flight before. Oh man! Next time I'm carrying you with me, Derek. It's awesome.”

“I don't want you transforming again until you talk to Alan.”

“Bah! I was in complete control!”

Scott said, “Liar.” Scott pointed to the heads, “I guess we should take those to prevent resurrection? We're about five miles from the house. We should get back before your dad shows up.”

Stiles ran a hand down Derek's back, “Good thinking, Scott. I always knew you were good for something besides looking pretty.”

Derek playfully growled into Stiles's neck. Stiles laughed and broke away before moving back. Then he smelled something. He looked down. Derek's shoes and pants had been sliced through. Derek bled as he stood on Stiles's discarded scales.

Stiles said, “You're bleeding! Oh my god! How can you just stand there? Don't move.”

Derek's eyes went wide as Stiles's hands wrapped around Derek's waist.

“ _Stiles_!”

Stiles held Derek high and wiggling as Stiles walked through the scales without incurring a scratch. As Derek's displeasure grew, Stiles decided that beside Scott was a good a spot as any, so he put Derek down next to Scott. All of them were now well outside of the main pile. Derek glared. Stiles glared right back. Scott smiled as he pulled a scale out of his foot.

Derek said, “That was humiliating, Stiles.”

Stiles said, “Now you know how I feel when I see you naked. So we're even. How is that not super painful? You're bleeding everywhere.”

Scott said, “It's painful. But I'm happier to see that you're alright than I am in pain. Derek is happy, too. Probably. Besides, it'll heal. See? It's almost all better.”

“Yeah yeah. I love you guys, too.”

Stiles walked back through the scales and picked up the three heads. He tossed them to Derek and Scott. On a whim he picked up the largest of his former tail spikes. Three feet long and edged on both sides, it weighed almost nothing. Experimentally, he tried to draw blood from a finger. It wouldn't break his skin.

He tried to slice a tree. It cut through like the tree was made of air. He dove out of the way as a literal ton of foliage came crashing down.

When Stiles looked up Derek was standing over him, glaring.

Stiles said, “It offended... Me?”

Derek kept glaring, “Are you done trying to kill yourself for today?”

“Hey now. The only things that died today were my pride, for the hundredth time, seriously, that thing is like a phoenix, and three alphas. Hmm... What makes a phoenix? It would be hilarious if Peter was a phoenix. I could totally see that.”

Derek reached down and pulled Stiles to his feet, “I have no idea about anything anymore.”

“You're right about that! You didn't think it was possible to be drunk on power. I assure you, Derek, it is 100% possible to be drunk on power. I was having the worst desires. Completely out of my mind...”

Stiles looked down and saw that Derek had, once again, walked through his scales to get to him. Stiles felt sad once again. Then he smiled. Derek looked all sorts of reluctant and wary.

Derek said, “Don't you dare pick me up again. No.”

Stiles smiled, “But I like being the knight in shining scale armor. Why can't I protect the damsel in distress when he needs it?”

“You did not just call me a fucking damsel in distress.”

Scott yelled from well outside the circle of scales, “I think he did, Derek!”

Derek backed away and cursed as he stumbled to the ground. The sun had just peaked out from the treeline. As sunlight struck the scales, the clearing lit with the scattered light of a million diamonds.

Stiles stepped closer, “Sorry, Derek. I won't do it again.” He held a hand out, “Here.”

Derek took Stiles's hand. Together, they walked out of the scales. Scott held the three heads in his hands and waited for them. Before they left the clearing to walk back to the house, Stiles turned around and stared at the shining crystalline dragon scales. Stiles didn't want to leave them behind.

Derek nudged him, “We should go.”

“But it's so pretty! They aren't vanishing like I'd expect them too, either. I have to get a few. If for no other reason than for science. Lydia will kill me if all I bring back is a single tail spine. And this one is mine. She can't have it. Scott! Give me your shirt.”

Scott said, “What? No. I like this shirt.”

“Oh come on. That is a shitty shirt and you know it. Gimme gimme. I'll blame the lack of trinkets on you.”

Scott sighed. Derek grinned. Scott took off his shirt and threw it at Stiles's head.

“Thank you. Do you two want a dragon sword too? This thing is super sharp. It's like, at least a +5 keen weapon.”

Derek said, “What is that supposed to mean? We need to get back, Stiles.”

“I'll take that as a no. It'll only take a minute. Just stand back and try not to look at my ass when I bend over.”

Derek blushed and Stiles called that a victory. Scott hung his head in shame. That was sort of like a victory, but not.

Stiles went back to the pile and picked up a variety of scales and another tail spine. This one was only a foot long with a single edge. When he finished getting what he wanted, and after placing them to the side, he picked up a random scale in the middle of the pile. He imagined opening his runed practice box to let the magic out. The scale dissolved like so much wispy white smoke.

“Yes! No trinkets for random passersby.”

Stiles concentrated and the pile vanished in billowing clouds of white. Stiles walked out of the cloud to find Derek annoyed at him. It was a common occurrence, so Stiles smiled it off and pecked a small kiss onto Derek's lips. Scott groaned.

Stiles said, “Lighten up, you two. Your faces will stay like that if you continue to be grumpy-pants.”

Derek said, “You vanished on me for the third time today. Please. Stop that. It's... It's not a nice feeling.”

“... I should have said something. I'm sorry.”

Scott held two heads while Derek held the last one and cut himself to the bone trying to hold onto a spike. Derek dumped the spike to the ground, much to Stiles's chagrin. Stiles was stuck holding onto his haul by himself. It was like holding two swords in one hand and a plastic grocery bag of broken glass in the other. By the time they made it back home an hour later, Stiles had lost half of the scales.

Jed's cruiser was in the driveway. Suddenly, Stiles realized that all he was wearing was a large shirt and coming back out of the woods with two shirtless guys, one of which was his boyfriend. Jackson was the first person to walk out of the front door.

Jackson must have instantly understood all of the implications of the situation. He started laughing and walked back into the house. Stiles dumped his scales onto the ground and tried to cover himself a bit better. The rest of the pack quickly filed out of the house. Scott and Derek dumped the heads behind a well-placed bush seconds before Jed walked into sight.

Stiles said, “Hi, Dad.”

Jed looked like he had a bad night. Which was, of course, what had happened. Stiles tried not to look too embarrassed as he pulled at the front of his, Derek's, shirt, to better cover himself. Before Jed said anything, Jackson, now smiling instead of laughing, reappeared and threw a pair of shorts at Stiles. Stiles hastily pulled them on.

Jed said, “Do I even want to know what happened?”

Stiles said, “We're safe from them listening in, now. That's a thing that we can all be glad about. I also have some things for Lydia. If she wants to play around with dragon scales, that is.”

Lydia's eyes went wide as she bounded down the steps, “Hell yes, I do!”

Stiles opened the shirt. The scales shone like white diamond, “They're like, super super sharp. You will cut yourself. Derek almost cut a finger off.”

“Excellent. I can work with that.”

Stiles stood back and scanned the area while Lydia carefully picked up a small scale. The only magical things within a good twenty miles that were not Pack, were Alan and Monica. Stiles smiled and walked towards his father. They hugged.

Danny said, “Any idea when to expect the reprisal?”

Stiles broke away from his father, “They're all twenty or thirty miles to the west. No reprisal right now.”

Jed said, “You can see them? How? What happened out there?”

Stiles said, “It's a magic thingy. I don't really know. I just work the stuff.”

Erica said, “They killed three alphas. I smell three strange scents. Did you get Morgan?”

Derek said, “Not yet, Erica. Stiles got three spies.”

Boyd embraced Erica, “I take it we're fighting now?”

Scott said, “It wasn't anything even close to a fight... I don't know how they're going to respond.”

Stiles said, “We'll just have to watch out for them, then! Or, you know, we could attack them. Preemptively.”

Lydia said, “We have no idea what sort of magic they have on their side. Is it even safe for you to transform again? You looked like you were turning rabid.”

Stiles tensed.

Jed saw, “You were. Weren't you?”

Derek put a hand on Stiles's shoulder, “He's fine. He came back. Everyone's first time is rough. He won't go that far again.”

Stiles smiled and put his hand on top of Derek's.

Jed let it go, “I'm glad you're okay, Stiles. Get some rest, will you? I have a long day ahead of me. I still need Erica and Boyd to come down to the station.”

Stiles said, “Dad. Don't sleep at home, okay? Come here. Or maybe Lydia can protect everyone's houses like she did this one? Could you do that, Lydia?”

Lydia didn't take her eyes off the scales, “I was already planing on doing a whole lot of that tonight.”

Stiles said, “Ah. Good. Could you still sleep here anyway, Dad?”

Jed said, “If we act scared, then the terrorists win.”

Stiles said, “... Right.”

Jed said, “Are you two ready to go to the station? You don't have to do it today, but it does need to be done.”

Boyd said, “We're ready.”

Erica said, “Let's go and get this over with.”

They joined Jed in his cruiser and took off down the road.

 

Half an hour later Stiles was asleep in Derek's arms. He woke alone at 4:00 in the afternoon. Derek must have wandered off without waking him some time ago. A moment of concentration revealed that the alpha pack was still deep in the forest. They might not have moved all day.

Stiles moved into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. With a flex of his hand, talons slashed out from his fingers. His eyes glowed completely white as sparks jumped between his draconic claws.

_This is a good thing, right?_

_I really should talk to Alan._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> If you enjoyed it, comments are appreciated.  
> If you didn't enjoy it, constructive comments are appreciated as well.


	4. Lydia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia has a day.

June 15th, during the Strawberry Moon, Lydia grew her first set of warding roses around her house. The ward wasn't tested until the 15th of July, two hours before the night of the Thunder Moon, and nearly half a day since Stiles shifted into, and back from, a dragon.

Lydia had spent the last few hours in complete and total bliss. Switching from cackling like a madwoman, to gentle laughter, to more devious cackling, she was glad her parents were still at work. At this point they would have considered putting her into an asylum or at least taking her to the hospital for hysterical giggling. As it was, she suspected the neighbors either thought she was doing drugs, maybe killing someone, or maybe the neighbors were gone too, and unable to hear her mad laughter.

She danced and hummed and when she ran out of energy she simply looked at one of Stiles's many dragon scales sitting suspended, motionless, and frictionless, in the air. Each scale hovered inches away from a little magnet. She had dozens of the glittering Nobel-prize-wining-but-they-don't-now-it-yet pairs set up on tables and counters all around the room. She even set a few up by the windowsill. They caught the sunlight and ricocheted it around the room in a shower of prismatic delight.

Lydia had already danced Jackson out. He slept in her bedroom upstairs in preparation for the full moon while she danced and hummed to herself in the living room downstairs. She tried to be a bit quieter for his peaceful sleep, but sometimes it just got away from her. Until today, she didn't realize she was the sort of person who was prone to happy dancing.

Apparently, Stiles's scales were room temperature superconductors. And room-temperature superconductors were the stuffs revolutions were made of.

Technological, industrial, transportation, and computerized revolutions.

In short: A whole new world.

_He was hovering without flapping his wings because he had quantum-locked the Earth's magnetic field into his scales. He wasn't electrocuted by the lightning because he was channeling the current around him, instead of through him._

_Oh my god. Room temperature superconductors. Oh my god._

_Why am I thinking 'oh my god'. Stiles says that, not me. Oh my god, he is rubbing off on me._

Lydia did a double take at her own thought process.

“Haaa hahahahaha.”

Lydia was in the middle of an overdose of possibilities when the lights flickered and died. It was only 6:00 pm. Sunlight still shone through the windows. Glittering scales still shattered sunlight all around the room. She wasn't really in the dark.

After a moment of peaceful beauty Lydia went to check on the circuit breakers. Jackson came walking down the stairs as Lydia turned to go down to the basement.

Jackson said, “The lights went out? Oh. Wow,” Jackson stared into the living room, “That is beautiful.”

“I know! I'm going to be so fucking famous. Bigger than Bill Gates.”

Jackson smiled as he looked at Lydia.

Lydia said, “What?”

“You're just so happy. It's really nice to see.”

Lydia smiled and wrapped her arms around Jackson. She kissed him and giggled into his neck.

“I have every reason to be happy. What time do you want to go to the Pack?”

Jackson ran his hands down her back, “How about we celebrate one more time, then go?”

Lydia squeezed Jackson's ass, “I'll be right up. I'm gonna check the circuit breakers first.”

Jackson smiled, broke away, and went back upstairs. Lydia walked down the steps to the basement. Finding the box was easy enough in the dim light. The main circuit had blown, so she reset it and the power came back on.

Lydia walked out of the basement, had mind-blowing sex with Jackson for an hour, then checked her email. Most of the mail was boring, normal life sort of stuff. One was different. One had 'Alpha Pack' in the subject line. Her heart leapt in her chest. Jackson must have heard her startle. Suddenly, Jackson stood beside her with a distressed hand on her shoulder.

“What happened?”

Lydia said, “I need to answer this email.”

“The Alpha Pack?! Delete it and walk away.”

Lydia scrunched her face and gave Jackson a wilting stare.

Jackson said, “You know you shouldn't.”

“Like that has ever stopped me. Besides. I got this. Watch.”

Lydia pulled her pillbox from her purse and took out a vine seed. She dropped it into a cup of water on her desk and drew out small warding vines all across her laptop.

Jackson said, “You have a lot of faith in all of this, don't you?”

Lydia said, “I have faith in myself. That's all I need. Don't you have faith in me by now?”

“Yeah...”

She opened the email. The body of the message was a single Skype address.

Jackson stepped back, “They want to talk.? Face to face? This has to be a trick, somehow.”

Lydia smiled, “Put on your most intimidating outfit. I need to get ready, too.”

Ten minutes later they were both dressed to impress. Jackson nodded as Lydia turned on Skype and typed in the address. She gave the room one last look over. She was ready. Jackson probably wasn't ready. He had never been very proficient with his wit.

Lydia said, “Stay in the frame and don't respond to threats. They'll try to goad you into making a mistake. I don't know how it will happen. But it will happen. Just trust me. Okay?”

“Shouldn't we do this with everyone?”

“No. If they have a trick up their sleeves I'm not going to let it propagate to everyone.”

She clicked the call button. Five minutes later, they connected to what was probably the alpha pack. A distinguished older looking man answered the call. His hair was gray and he wore a dark suit.

“Lydia Martin. Jackson Whittemore.” The man's face turned serious as his eyes flickered red, “You may call me Moriarty.”

Lydia laughed at the man, “No. I am going to call you Fred.”

His eyes flared red, “You would seek to dishonor me by not using my name?”

“Moriarty, even it is your name, but I highly doubt it is, is a power play that I will take no part in. So. Fred. What makes you call us?”

Fred ground his teeth, “I have come with an offer.”

“Before we get to that: We already know that there is no way you could be the true speaker for your group. First, you use a fictitious name meant to instil respect. Respect that you haven't earned, by the way. Second, you traipse out an old man when we know your appearance has little to do with your real age. You insult my intelligence. Now. Turn the monitor to someone who actually makes the decisions. Otherwise, this call is at an end, and we shall proceed with your annihilation in a few hours.”

The vines surrounding the laptop cringed and wilted, but held.

Lydia huffed, “And now someone over there tries to work some sort of spell at me? How rude. Please leave, Fred. You're annoying and pointless.”

Fred was about to speak but another voice halted his rebuttal. The old man left. A slim man, looking much like an older Stiles with black hair and darker skin, walked into the frame. Lithe muscle flexed under comfortable clothing much like the same sort of disposable tank tops and camouflage shorts that Mark and Morgan wore. He had a world-weary look to his face. His eyes glowed bright red as he sat down in the seat Fred vacated.

He said, “You killed three of my Pack.”

“Morgan killed three of our family members. Blame yourself for the deaths you have incurred.”

“Those humans weren't Pack. Erica and Boyd abandoned them. Their deaths were simply to let you know that we mean business. How can they count for anything substantial like true Pack?”

“They do. Can you comprehend that? Or should I start talking like you're a child?”

“I will try to understand your irrational nature for the sake of this conversation. Are you going to give us Stiles?”

“Stiles will revolutionize civilization. His byproducts will put humanity on the next step in evolution. Besides, we will never bargain with someone who would kill us at their displeasure. Stiles is our Pack.”

The man smiled, “How would Stiles revolutionize civilization?”

“You tell me why you want Stiles and Jackson, then I will tell you why I do.”

“Morgan wants him for a lover. We want Morgan to be happy. As for Jackson: That does not matter if we get Stiles. You may keep your abomination without fear of further threat from us.”

“Ah. Well. You're not going to get either of them.”

“We can offer you the world.”

“I already have it. You need to do better.”

“We can offer you your lives.”

“That threat is meaningless.”

“Fair enough. How about this. You give me the heads of my friends back, and Stiles and Jackson and Danny, and I won't take a year to kill you. I'll do it quick, instead of playing with your insides and flaying off your meat in little bits.”

“You wouldn't wait a year to make Jackson revert to a Kanima. That threat is a blatant lie.”

Old-Stiles laughed, “You're fun.”

“I saw the pictures of Morgan's former husband. Stiles and he looked pretty similar. And now I see that all three of you look alike. Morgan has a type, and that type is you. Is that how come you're willing to accept Stiles instead of a fight? She wants you but she can't have you. So she goes after approximations of you and you encourage that. Have you had to deny her on full moons? Have you had to fight her, or rather him, off as he/she tried to mount you? Why do you constantly deny her? Is she not pretty enough? Do you hate her because _she_ is a _he_ half the time, and you're just not into that? Or is it for some other much more personal reason, that you can never love her?”

The man sighed, “That... Was a mistake on your part. She doesn't like being reminded of those nights.”

Morgan popped into the frame, her face a rictus of anger, “You're first, bitch! Right the fuck now!” 

Morgan left the frame. Old-Stiles sighed.

The man said, “My name is Demetrio. Pity that you won't live to see tomorrow. I was hoping that this conversation would have gotten us somewhere. But that option is now gone.”

“You really should call her back. Stiles can easily kill her, you know.”

Demetrio laughed, “Do you know how Morgan spent the vast majority of world war two? She took pleasure in running through Hitler's gauntlet of occult defenses to scratch a mark on his chin every week. In response, Hitler developed many excuses for why he was so bad at shaving. That was during the height of the war, too. She has greatly improved since that time. One dragon is nothing. Your whole pack is nothing. _You_ , are nothing.”

“Well. Then how about this: Stiles is a chimera, not a dragon. He got this way directly because of all of us, including me. If you knock out his support structure, you lose the single greatest scientific advancement in possibly forever.”

“I don't see how that is relevant. I really don't care about your human civilization. If you're telling me I can halt your species's advancement for another hundred years, then I will gladly do so. Taking out his support structure will make him much more manageable for Mogan, too. And, if Stiles will stop Morgan from hounding me for a few decades, then that is a bonus worth grabbing. And, we came here for the Kanima. That first goal is still available. There are so many reasons why you have no power here. Watching you squirm would be hilarious if it wasn't so sad.”

Lydia went a little pale, “This conversation seems to have gotten away from me.” Lydia turned towards Jackson, “Text the Pack. Call Stiles.”

She started to speak but cut herself off half a dozen times before she said anything. Demetrio grinned. A minute passed. Lydia grew increasingly unnerved.

Lydia finally said, “Why are you doing this to us? Just tell me why!”

Demetrio said, “If you had another hundred years you would be much better at this. You did the best that you knew how. If it is any consolation: Monica never suspected that you caught onto her act.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You would rather ask questions than go to your pack to hide from Morgan? She is exceedingly quick. She is likely halfway there.”

Jackson handed her the phone, Stiles was on the other line, “I got this weird text fro-”

Lydia interrupted, “Can you see anything now? Like a werewolf running this way?”

The phone went silent for a second, “... Oh my god. Someone is coming this wa... No. They're going into town. What happened, Lydia?”

Demetrio smiled.

Lydia said, “Oh my god! That's Morgan. She's coming for my head. How close is she?”

Stiles sounded like he was running somewhere. His words jostled in and out, “How can you sound... Calm? Lydia... Worried. About... Halfway... you. Protect yourself! Hurry!”

“Oh. Goody. So she's halfway here. The listeners were only four and a half miles out, so that puts her at over nine.” She spoke to Stiles but smiled directly at Demetrio, “Right now, she probably can't hear the people back at her base camp, and if she could, it's rather close to the full moon. Her bloodlust probably interferes with her rationality. And I doubt she has a phone. A call in the middle of an assassination might complicate things.”

Demetrio's smug demeanor slowly vanished, “You left this call open for a reason, didn't you?”

“Stiles. You can either come to watch, or simply tell Erica that I'll have Morgan's head in ten minutes.” Lydia ended the phone call and stared at Demetrio, “All Morgan ever wanted was you. Why did you reject her for so long? I feel so sad for her, that she will never see you again. Is it sad for you that _you_ will never see _her_ again? And why, _oh why_ , have you not roared out for her yet?” Lydia ended the Skype call. She turned towards a clearly freaking out Jackson, “Honey. I need you to not be here. The wolfsbane will kill you in a second.”

Jackson hugged her tightly, “You're going to be alright, right? You can do this, right?”

“Yes. But if this doesn't work out, just remember that I have a plan. A plan you can't talk about. I love you. Now get out of here. Quickly.”

Jackson let go and ran. Lydia went to her closet and pulled out a small box labeled 'Toxic'.

 

Lydia walked out the rear entrance to her house and onto the forest floor. The sky was awash in the colors of a cloudy sunset. She gripped Stiles's smaller tail spine in her right hand and held blood soaked seeds in her left. Where the seeds fell to the earth, small green vines stretched out. Thorns, inches long and dripping toxic aconite, jutted from the vines. A hundred shades of blue wolfsbane-rose hybrids twisted into warding eyes as they spiraled outward in ever increasing complexity.

Lydia stood at the center of a field of twisting blue poison.

Morgan watched from a hundred paces away. Her claws as bright a red as her eyes.

Morgan spoke, “I'll be taking your head, now.”

Lydia smiled, “If you don't get on with it, reinforcements will be here an-”

The field of blue thudded as long red claws shredded and tore the air. Morgan's fangs sunk into Lydia's throat as her claws slashed across Lydia's abdomen. Gleaming prismatic in the sunlight, the spine fell to the blood-soaked field of blue.

The world spun. Morgan was gone. Lydia glimpsed her segmented body strewn across the field of blue roses. 

_I love you, Jackso-_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me too much.
> 
> Information on superconductors: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXHczjOg06w  
> It is very interesting! Give it a watch!
> 
> If I haven't driven you off, and if you'd like to, you can follow me at:  
> arcs-of-light.tumblr.com


	5. Jackson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson has a bad evening.

Jackson knew that he should have run faster. He definitely should not have stopped running. And if he had any ounce of self preservation left in his body, he would not have turned around.

Every logical notion and well documented case of Lydia's competency told Jackson that Lydia was able to handle herself. But as Jackson stood there in a stranger's front yard, Jackson couldn't leave her to face death alone. Complete terror overwrote Jackson's ability to follow Lydia's plan.

Jackson ran towards Lydia's house. As he stepped into Lydia's front yard the faint scent of wolfroses assaulted his mind. Pain wracked across his body in faint black lines. He collapsed to the ground and crawled away from the pain. A car swerved to miss him as he dragged himself back across the street. Some asshole yelled something but kept driving. The pain vanished when he made it to the other side of the road.

Jackson heard Morgan and Lydia taunt each other seconds before the air behind the house tore in great cracking rifts. Lydia's voice, tainted by gurgling blood, echoed in Jackson's ears. Hands on his face, tears in his eyes, Jackson felt Lydia die.

“No...”

A faint darkness crept around him. Bright smiles opened in the air as the shadow made its way towards Lydia's house.

Monica's voice came from everywhere, “You wait right here, Jackson.”

Dark shadow vines wrapped around Jackson's body and pinned him to the ground. The faint darkness moved on, leaving Jackson to his pain.

He felt numb. His skin itched. He didn't like any of this. This was not supposed to happen. Lydia had a plan. Lydia's plans always worked. Jackson could always count on Lydia. No matter how mean or wrong or difficult he knew he could be, Lydia was always there for him. She always had a plan.

They were supposed to be together forever. Lydia can't be dead. How could Lydia be dead when that was not a part of the plan?

Lydia was supposed to make a perfectly impenetrable warding circle. An attacking werewolf was supposed to die long before they made it to the center. Morgan shouldn't have been able to get past the first set of wards, or the second, or the third and fourth. Even if he made it past all of those wards, the toxic wolfsbane should have killed him long before he got to the center. He should have died long before he got to Lydia.

Lydia had perfected her warding technique with Jackson's help and normal roses. The first time was a complete failure on Lydia's part, but she got better within an hour. At the end of the day Jackson couldn't even get within sight of her without feeling the urge to run.

Monica was helping the alpha pack. Monica knew all of Lydia's tricks. How did Monica know? Demetrio said that Monica never caught on to Lydia's true intentions or plans. Demetrio was a liar. Demetrio played Lydia for a fool. Monica played Lydia for a fool.

_Lydia played me for a fool. She said she would always be there. She said she loved me. How could she have gone and died on me?_

Jackson stared into the sky. His body was a lead weight held to the earth by shadow vines. Even when Morgan and Monica stood over him, Jackson didn't react. Lydia's blood was everywhere. Jackson felt his skin boil. He glanced at Morgan. He was a she this time.

Black lines of wolfsbane poison etched her skin, but she still smiled. She snorted and spat black goo onto the ground like she wasn't dying inside. She morphed into a he, threw Jackson's limp body over his shoulder like it was nothing, and turned towards Monica. Jackson couldn't move. All he could see were black lines vanishing from Morgan's sliced and bloody back.

Morgan said, “Your debt is paid, Monica. On to new matters: Do you wish to join us? We can always use fresh talent.”

Monica said, “If it is all the same to you I prefer my current life. As a courtesy, can you assure me that this story never gets out? You know how tricky our politics can be.”

“Which one is that? That you were fooled by a child, or that you provided direct assistance to us?”

“Both.”

“We will ask you for something small in return, some day.”

“Deal.”

Jackson squeaked out, “You-”

Morgan slapped Jackson's ass. Impotent fury swelled. Shadowy vines clamped his arms to his body and held down every attempt to rage against the situation.

A chorus of welcome roars echoed across the sky. Stiles. Derek. Scott. Danny. Lighting struck nearby. Monica vanished in a haze of shadows.

Morgan said, “So, Jackson. How should I do this? Stick around and taunt? Kill a few? Or just run? How many of your friends does it take to revert you to your mindless self? Too bad I can't kill Danny. Oh, don't get your hopes up. He will die soon enough. But we're going to experiment on him first. He'll still be alive long after we've sliced him up in interesting ways.”

Lighting must have struck a nearby car. All Jackson could see was Morgan's bloody back. The smell of ozone was abrupt and sudden. Morgan leapt to the side to avoid a lighting bolt and started running.

Morgan said, “Gotta love that Stiles. Even willing to strike his own Pack! Just on the edge of morality. He's perfect.”

The world shifted as Morgan ran faster than the wind. The feeling of pack vanished in the distance as the forest enveloped them. Jackson was alone, again.

Something slithered beneath his skin. Morgan laughed.

“It's that easy to make you revert? Lydia really was the only thing you care about. Shall I serenade you with the description of ripping her apart?”

Jackson felt control slipping. He thought of Lydia's smile and tried not to cry.

_I'll never give them what they want._

The full moon peeked through the trees. Jackson tried to feel for Danny, calm and peaceful and always slightly irritated Danny, and regained control.

 

Night descended on them as they entered the alpha camp. Jackson was still paralyzed when three betas took him from Morgan. Jackson only saw what passed in front of him. A few makeshift buildings powered by an unseen generator. Dozens of blue-eyed betas and a few nearby alphas giving him hungry looks. The manacles and cage they were putting him in.

They carefully sliced his clothes off as they locked heavy chains around his limbs and neck. Each chain was forged from inch-thick metal and must have weighed a hundred pounds each. With five of them on him, he doubted his ability to move even if he wasn't paralyzed.

They weren't rough about placing him in the cage. They didn't have to be. Jackson had never felt more trapped and vulnerable in his life. He wasn't going anywhere they didn't allow.

Two things suddenly happened. His paralysis vanished and he met Demetrio in person.

Jackson righted himself and tried to unleash his anger. The cage held. The chains weighed him down. All he got for his efforts was a sly smile from Demetrio and exhaustion.

Jackson stopped trying to break the cage. Demetrio stood before Jackson with his eyes shining red. Dozens of betas stood well away into the surrounding forest. A few yellow-eyed betas looked like foreign fireflies floating within a sea of blue-eyed werewolves.

Demetrio said, “You're still a wolf. How odd. Morgan said she smelled your shift on the run here.”

_I'm not going to transform. I'm not. Lydia said to be patient. She has a plan. If I revert, they'll just get whatever they want. I can't let that happen. I won't let that happen._

Light from dozens of blue-eyed betas melted together as his anguish washed over him like a wave. He was at the bottom of a river. Nearby alphas turned into indistinct splashes of violent red, like something had killed something else and the blood just flowed. The light of the full moon trickled through the trees. Slithering shadows crept out from from the corners of his vision.

Snakes of shadow curled around Demetrio's legs. Jackson's skin was too tight. He wanted to shed it and carve his vengeance out of Demetrio's skull.

_Help me, Lydia. Help me, Danny._

Control and focus pulsed through his body as he thought of Lydia's touch, of Lydia's love, of Danny's calm face and concerned voice. Jackson breathed again and the snakes disappeared.

Demetrio smiled, “You almost reverted.”

Jackson said, “Why do you want me?”

“It speaks! And it has a question!” Demetrio asked the crowd, “Should I answer it?”

A tall man with wavy brown hair and wearing plain clothes stepped forward. His red eyes fixed on Jackson. A name from four months ago sat on the edge of Jackson's mind.

_John! He confronted Scott and his mom at the very beginning._

John said, “Yes.”

Morgan stepped forward, “I don't care.”

Mark stepped forward, “Go ahead.”

Three red-eyed women stepped forward. Three more unknown alphas. Two were similarly skinny women except for their hair color, one black and the other blond. They had to be twins. The last one was massively muscled with long white hair.

Blond said, “No.”

Black said, “No.”

White said, “No.”

Demetrio said, “It _would_ be a no, but I get two votes because I am awesome like that. And I'm voting yes. It might even help put you over the edge to fully revert. Sorry, girls.”

Blond and Black huffed and walked away. White stayed.

Jackson said, “You even talk like Stiles.”

Morgan took half a step forward. His eyes shifted red but he didn't move any closer. Nearby betas flinched away.

Demetrio ignored Jackson, “Would it surprise you to know that, baring dismemberment and other such calamities, Kanimas are immortal?”

What would it matter if he was immortal if it couldn't be time spent with Lydia? Jackson stared at the sea of hungry eyes surrounding him. Was this somehow a play for immortality? Weren't they already ageless? If Lydia were here she would be able to figure this out.

Jackson said, “What does that matter?”

Demetrio stared, his eyes burned red, “Hurry up and revert. You already have nothing to live for. Morgan did a fine job of murdering Lydia. Danny will be in pieces soon enough.”

Control was slipping away. Jackson barely managed to hold onto his sanity under the onslaught of mental images.

“... Are you going to eat me?”

Demetrio's fangs came out, “For all the work you have put into it, you body is of little consequence.”

“Why do you want me, then?”

“All the clues are already there. Don't you get it yet? I just gave you the biggest one of them all.”

“You want me for an immortal pet?”

Demetrio laughed, “Oh my, no. No one here would dare let you close to them. You mutate others with your profoundly toxic connection. Turn them into more of you. You might not be a true kanima right now, but you still poison people to this day. You poisoned Stiles's magic into something deep and strange. Danny is another true abomination just like you, but he is strange and new. When we're through with you we'll go after him. We will pull him apart to see what makes him tick. Lydia developed an immunity to all toxins, thanks to you. Her theory that she was immune to the bite because she rejected the supernatural was the most precious thing I have heard in a long time.”

Demetrio flashed out long black claws, “You're only good for one thing. Delicious immortality.”

Jackson sat down on the cold metal. The word 'delicious' echoed in his mind.

“You said you weren't going to eat me.”

“We won't be eating your body. After you have been prepared, we will be eating your soul. Body and soul. Two different things. You're lucky I decided to put that word 'delicious' out there. You're really bad at this between-the-line thing, aren't you?”

Nothing made any sense anymore. Why was Morgan willing to call off the alpha pack if she got Stiles? Immortality seemed like a big deal. Why would they need immortality anyway if they were already ageless? Where was that old man that Lydia named Fred? Did he need it, or something?

“But... Why would you give up immortality for Stiles? ”

Demetrio said, “Oh mio dio! You are an idiot. I know you know the answer to that. Your Pack went over it in your very first meeting. It's such a pity you aren't as smart as Lydia. She was fun to talk to. I'm throwing clues out here left and right and you're not picking up on a single one of them. I suppose that doesn't really matter anyway. You'll be dead soon enough. So here, let me spell it out for you: We take _what_ we want, _when_ we want, and _how_ we want.”

“You were never going to leave if you got Stiles, were you?”

Demetrio laughed, “Now you're catching on!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments, both critical and otherwise, are always welcome. 
> 
> If you want, you can follow me at: arcs-of-light.tumblr.com


	6. Chris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris has a revelation and a change of heart.

After having his sister, his father, and his wife, all fall prey to the life of a hunter, Chris was confronted with his daughter following the same path towards murderous insanity. Only psychopaths could handle all of the bloodshed and tough decisions without it changing them. Hopefully Allison wouldn't turn out to be a psychopath like her aunt.

Everyone cracks under the weight of hunting. Getting back up and pulling yourself together is the important part. Making sure you never repeat the same mistakes is important, too.

A large part of that is knowing what you will do and what you won't do, and the reasons for picking your choices.

Killing a monster that killed a human is acceptable and righteous. But killing monsters that haven't killed anyone else first was a gray area. A gray area that hunters like Gerard liked to occupy. Chris hated gray areas. In 1995, during the middle of a moral crisis at the age of twenty five, Chris's mother offered a solution to his dilemma. The Code. It was half-halfheartedly taught to him by Gerard, but his mother was the one that drilled into him the importance of knowing what is right and what is wrong. Chris eliminated the gray areas from his life and found his path.

He would not harm anything that had not harmed another.

Chris's mother approved of his choice. Gerard was annoyed with Chris's decision for a time, saying that monsters shouldn't even be given the chance to kill in the first place, but got over it by indoctrinating twelve-year-old Kate. Gerard never spoke of Chris's decision again.

As his mother was the head of the Argent family for a short while, his mother's approval solidified Chris's decision about The Code. His stance also pushed Kate further into Gerard's arms.

Now it was easy to make sure that Good was done and that Evil was destroyed. No questions of morality had popped up in quite some time. When Chris's mother passed away in 1998, leadership went to a cousin overseas, and Chris, somehow, was seen as too righteous to get the job done right.

He became the black sheep of a family full of grays. At the time, Chris thought it was ironic.

But being the black sheep, he had no idea that Kate had murdered the Hale family until the day Kate died at the hands of Peter.

If he knew the truth about the Hale fire from the beginning, would anything really be different? Chris liked to think that he would have set things right if he knew that Kate had clearly crossed a moral event horizon. Having it all laid out for him to see, but with no time to sort through the right and the wrong because people were dying to a Kanima, he made some poor decisions regarding his trust of his father.

If he had the time to sort through all the gray, Chris wouldn't have been under any familial illusions about either Kate or Gerard. Allison would never have been allowed to see them. Chris would have confronted Gerard's plan to 'avenge Kate's death' with the fact that Derek wasn't the one that killed Kate, Peter did and Peter was already dead.

In Chris's perfectly black and white world, everything had turned gray.

He was in another moral crisis and he didn't have anyone to help him sort it out. He tried going along with Gerard for a time, but that decision brought Allison down the same dark path that Kate took.

It was unacceptable.

In a long coming decision, he went back to The Code. Chris decided enough was enough well before the night when Gerard revealed his insanity. On that night, Chris released Erica and Boyd and assisted Scott and Isaac with Jackson's body. Gerard ran away as a monster and Chris thought himself on the right path again.

It wasn't until the confrontation with Stiles at the shooting range that he realized that there was another step. A step he wished Victoria was here to take part in.

Chris had assaulted children on a weekly basis because they might have possible done something wrong. Why was he being so hurtful to them? All he was doing was driving them further away from the correct path. All he was doing was showing Allison that it was okay to call people monsters and then step over them like they don't matter.

Looking back on it, did it really matter if they were werewolves or humans or Kanimas? No, it did not. None of them had killed anyone. Not under their own power, anyway. Victoria's death was her own choice, Derek did not kill her.

That was the important part. None of Derek's pack had killed anyone. Derek and his pack were always in the white of Chris's black and white world. Chris just hadn't seen it until now.

Now that Chris had time to think about it, he would have been completely fine with Victoria being a werewolf. She would have never fallen to her nature. They could have had a happy life together. He would never have to worry about Victoria growing sick. He and Allison would have been there to provide a pack for Victoria. To provide stability.

Turned werewolves might be cocoons of imposters waiting to hatch...

… Or they might not.

There was no way to tell. Does tempering a piece of iron make it no longer iron? Can a person be happy one day but sad the next and still be the same person?

If the bite does change the soul, and Chris didn't even know enough about any of that to even consider that he was asking the right question, does it replace the current soul or does it just color it a bit differently?

All questions that are impossible to answer correctly.

Or at least, impossible for Chris to answer.

Chris's mother would be ashamed to hear that her son and granddaughter had been called bigots. She would be ashamed to hear that Chris had threatened the lives of children. It would be inconsequential if it was just some phrase spewed from the mouth of the ignorant, but in this case, it had been alarmingly insightful.

Chris had tried to speak to Allison about all of this, but she did not reciprocate. Chris lectured and Allison took it in stride. If any of it sunk in, Chris didn't know. If Chris was right about any of it at all, he didn't know.

All he really knew was that life was going to be a lot easier if he focused on hunting those that deserved it, instead of focusing on werewolves that might someday slip.

Chris hoped that he and Derek's Pack could start mending this crazy rift forged by generations of hate. But both the hunters and the peaceful Hale Pack had kept their distances from each other. The each trained without the other, with only the Stilinski family bridging the gap.

Jed had not exactly sided with the Hunters, but he was more amicable to working with other humans than working with Derek's Pack. Jed and Stiles had even come out for the 4th of July Father/Son shooting tournament. After they easily made it through the first few rounds, Chris noticed Stiles pulling back. They purposefully took third place when they could have taken first.

Chris tried to be pleasant when he brought up the subject of them throwing the contest later. Jed laughed and blamed it on Stiles. Stiles gave him an evil look and didn't say anything.

 

A reckoning between Chris and Derek's pack would be coming soon, hopefully before the alpha pack's deadline. On July 15th, the night of the Thunder Moon, that reckoning came.

 

Chris and Allison slept during the day in preparation for whatever the full moon would bring. Chris had been awake for an hour and was making dinner, or breakfast, as some might refer to it, when the call came in.

Mary's voice crackled over the phone, “Mr. Argent. They've not exactly made their move, but they are doing something. The Sheriff is on the scene at Lydia Martin's house. The girl is dead. Dismembered in a garden of hybrid wolfsbane. Looks like she had been growing it for weeks. Be advised: the scene is highly toxic.”

“Thanks, Mary.”

“Anytime, Mr. Argent.”

Chris ended the call, turned off the stove, and left everything sitting out. He knocked on Allison's door before opening it. She launched upright with a knife in her hand as Chris stepped inside.

Allison said, “What's happening?”

“Lydia is dead. Gas masks and full cover. We're harvesting wolfsbane.”

“... Okay.”

They were both ready in five minutes. Night had come by the time they made it to the Martin House. Everyone on the scene, except for the Martins, was either a hunter or in the know. An officer consoled Lydia's parents while Chris was directed through the house to the backyard.

A police line hung on poles a dozen feet away from the edge of the blue garden, fully enclosing the scene. A veteran hunter currently playing the part of the police and seemingly in charge for the moment, Brandy, if Chris recalled correctly, stopped him from coming within five feet of the police barrier. Chris and Allison set their harvesting gear down.

Brandy said, “Glad you came with protective gear, Chris. The body was already removed from the garden when we got here. The garden itself... We know it's wolfsbane, but we think there are many other toxins in there as well.”

Lights illuminated a garden of bright blue roses and dripping thorns. A slice of the garden was gone, shredded to the center. Part of the garden had been burned. Shiny red-black stains were everywhere. Classic signs of a body being ripped apart.

A nearby black body bag bulged with Lydia's remains. Chris saw Allison look at it, and then look away.

Allison gasped, “Oh... Lydia.”

Allison did not cry. Chris was glad that Allison had become stronger than she used to be, but saddened that Allison was forced to see her former friend's death scene. Then the hunter-part of Chris reminded him that, as a hunter, seeing death was going to be a common occurrence in Allison's life.

Chris said to Brandy, “Why do you think there are other toxins?”

Brandy said, “We need a lab to test some samples. But... Come here,” They put on their protective gear and walked inside the scene. From a few feet away, Brandy pointed out specific plants, “Orange crystals on this one. White crystals on this one. This one is leaking blue gunk. Each bush is a bit different from the next. But they all smell classically similar to wolfsbane. The victim was a prodigy botanist. This stuff might be too dangerous to harvest. If she wasn't ripped to shreds her death would have been labeled an accidental poisoning, or suicide.”

“Well, now I _have_ to harvest some.”

Jed said, “Maybe we could talk first.”

Chris turned around to see the Sheriff standing there.

All the nearby police and hunters stopped what they were doing as the two official powers, both the legally appointed and the resident Hunter, stared each other down. Both Jed and Chris noticed the change of atmosphere.

Chris said, “Let's talk somewhere else.”

They moved to one of the smaller rooms of the Martin house. Allison joined them.

Jed said, “Stiles thinks the fight is starting. I assume you know about the three murders this morning? In response, they killed the three alphas that were listening in. The day was uneventful. The alpha pack went after Lydia and Jackson at sunset. Lydia died and Morgan took Jackson. Do you know why they would go after Jackson?”

Chris said, “The murders this morning were standard scare tactics. If they kidnapped Jackson it must have been because they want a Kanima. I don't know why they want a Kanima.”

“No ideas at all?”

“None. But I do know that I need to talk to Derek about the rest.”

 

Chris waited as Jed called Stiles. Jed put it on speakerphone and set the phone down on a table between Chris and he.

Stiles answered the phone, “What's wrong, Dad?”

Jed said, “You're on speakerphone, Stiles. Chris wants to talk to Derek.”

“What the fu- No. Wait. Does he have helicopters?” Silence, then, “Derek doesn't want to talk to him. I'll talk to him instead.”

Chris said, “I assume you have a good reason for starting this a month early, and also some sort of hidden weapon if you were able to kill three alphas on your own.”

“Who told you?”

Chris looked at Jed. Jed had a very good pokerface.

Chris spoke, unsure of the implications of what he just heard, “... You killed them, literally, on your own? I was referring to your pack. What secrets have you been keeping?”

“Maybe if you weren't such asshole bigots that threw teenagers into walls and threatened them with physical harm, we would gladly talk to you.”

“You're right. Sorry about that. Can we move on to saving some lives now?”

Stiles paused, “... Just so you know. I'm talking to you under protest. If I thought we could do this on our own we would have already. But they have like, at least eight alphas and a good dozen betas. And they have Jackson. We know that they have at least one witch on their side. They might have more. I think we should take care of the one we know about, first. She in at her home in town.”

Chris closed his eyes as a small headache formed behind his eyes. Obviously, the issue of how Chris conducted himself as a hunter was a big enough issue for the Hale pack that Chris was only just now finding out all this pertinent information, and only because someone had died. Eight alphas? Dozens of betas? And now a local witch, and probably more, were assisting the alpha pack?

This problem needed to be fixed right now. The possibilities of something going wrong because they couldn't trust each other were too great to ignore the situation.

Chris said, “It was wrong of me to threaten you with harm when none of you have killed anyone. Maybe If I wasn't like that, we could have worked together before now. I am sorry that you were forced to rely on the supernatural instead of on the people who know how to deal with these things. I know my apology can't mean much with regard to the Hale tragedy, but I hope that Derek can accept it anyway. If I had known what Kate had done at the time, I would have done something to advert the fire. I am sorry.”

“... Is this some sort of joke?”

“No. It is not. But I assure you, if anyone of you kills an innocent, I will have no problem hunting you down. But since you haven't, I have no need to be unkind towards you or your's. I hope that is an acceptable arrangement. I apologize again for the rough treatment our side has committed against your's.”

“... Hold on.”

“Take your time. It's not like people are dying.”

The phone stayed on but Stiles spoke to someone else. They argued and Chris couldn't make out any of their conversation. Allison looked more and more uncomfortable as the minutes dragged on. She fidgeted, got out her phone, and started texting someone.

Chris asked her, “Who are you texting?”

“... Scott.”

Chris sighed, “Do you really want to break both of your focuses on the fight right now?”

Allison looked like she had been slapped. After a moment of indignation she put her phone away.

Allison said, “I'd rather tell him in person, anyway.”

Stiles came back on, “Hey. Argent. So you're not going to be dicks to us any more? You're just going to let us be after this? And you're going to have to repeat that apology in person, by the way.”

Chris said, “I'll leave you _mostly_ alone. There will, however, be a few checkups now and then if anyone dies to suspicious animal attacks. I will apologize in person, too. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes. That's fine.” Stiles sighed, “Okay, so. They're not moving right now so we might have time to plan all of this before they kill Jackson. Are you coming over, or what? Just you. None of your buddies.” Someone yelled something at Stiles's end of the phone. Stiles went silent, then came back a moment later, “Scott requests that Allison comes only if she shares your sentiments.”

“Acceptable. Allison and I will be there shortly.”

“One more thing: If you've touched the roses, don't bring any of that shit here. Okay? It's beyond toxic. If it rains, someone is going to step into a puddle of it and probably die. Lydia... Lydia told me about it once. She called it 'wolfsrose.' One scratch will kill a human just as well as a werewolf. Cyanide, arsenic, LSD, aconite obviously, and a lot of other plant toxins. The witch burned some of it to save the assassin that killed-” The phone went silent for a second, “So don't touch the surrounding trees either. There's probably toxins coating everything out there.”

“Thank you, Stiles. You probably just saved someone's life. With that information: I've just now decided to call in a disposal unit instead of harvesting it. ”

“Good. Good... Dad. Are you coming out?”

Jed said, “I'll find out what the plan is soon enough. I have a job to do here.”

“Be safe. Don't touch the wolfsrose. I'll call you if I see the alpha pack headed your way.”

Stiles ended the call. Jed picked his phone back up.

Jed said, "Ever had your kid tell you to be safe when you're both in danger? It feels wrong, somehow. Backwards."

Chris smiled and looked towards Allison, "Yes. It feels strange each time."

Allison grinned but said nothing. 

Chris gave out instructions for disposal of the wolfsrose and made sure everyone knew exactly how toxic it was. They bid Jed farewell and got back into their car to head to the Hale House.

 

The last time Chris was out here was four months ago. There was absolutely no way that this place was natural. The road to the Hale House was surrounded by a thick forest that reminded Chris of the enchanted forests listed in the bestiary.

Allison opened her window and stared into the moonlit trees.

Allison said, “How did this happen? It's beautiful.”

_It's unnatural. It's wrong. It's..._

_It's a gray area._

_It doesn't concern me._

“Don't go wandering. Enchanted forests are kind to their inhabitants, but ruthless to outsiders.”

“This _is_ an enchanted forest, isn't it? Of course it is. It has to be. Who made it?”

A few things clicked in Chris's mind.

Chris said, “Likely Lydia.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took so long to write. It just wouldn't come. Terribly sorry if you find it boring. 
> 
> Hopefully the next one will be better!
> 
> If I haven't driven you off yet, and if you'd like, you can follow me at: arcs-of-light.tumblr.com


	7. Stiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finds out a lot of truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter. Sorry for the wait.  
> As always: Not beta'd, only alpha'd.
> 
> I will probably edit it again after my eyes uncross.  
> Enjoy!

Stiles and Isaac sat with Danny in the living room. Peter stood beside the broken window and stared out into the moonlit sky. Scott and Derek glared at each other while Boyd and Erica cooked in the kitchen.

Erica had grown increasingly angry as night fell and Derek and Scott refused to attack without a plan. So, Erica distracted herself with baking while Boyd helped. It was an adequate distraction, for now.

Peter interrupted Scott and Derek's glare-party, “I hear a car.”

Scott turned towards the window, “It's Chris's car.”

Derek, Scott, and Stiles rushed out the front door and onto the driveway. Everyone else arrayed themselves on the front porch.

Peter stood unnaturally calm beside a pillar on the porch. Stiles normally wouldn't have noticed, but Peter had been on edge since the conference call with the Sheriff. Now that Stiles took a moment to really look at Peter, Peter seemed like a dam ready to burst. Stiles didn't think Peter would actually attack Chris. But Stiles gave Peter a questioning look anyway. Peter glared back.

Peter said, “I'm not going to do anything... probably.”

Stiles said, “That's reassuring.”

Peter said, “You don't think I know when to bide my time?”

Stiles said, “That's not the problem.” Stiles glared back, trying to show that he was under no illusions about Peter's ability to wait, “The problem is... Never mind. There is no problem. It's not like you're going to rip his head off when we could use him in a fight, right?”

Peter scoffed, “Of course not. I'm not _insane._ ”

 

Chris pulled into the front driveway and turned around to park for a fast get-away. He carefully stepped out of his SUV and studied the eight Pack members before him. Allison did not get out of the car. Stiles heard her heartbeat racing as she opened the door and sat there, one foot out with her body still inside, probably contemplating something.

Chris's heartbeat was steady and calm. Derek was similarly calm. Their shoulders back, their heads held high, they both projected an air of supreme confidence. Everyone else was tense but did their best to mirror Derek's manner. Scott was mimicking Derek rather well. This wasn't the first time Stiles had studied heartbeats for emotion, but it hadn't gotten any less strange over the past few months.

Chris said, “Before we start this: I need to know how you know their numbers, locations, and how you know when they're moving.”

Derek said, “Before we start this: I need to know if you've actually changed. I'd prefer to not work with someone who would stab us in the back, _or_ let their teammates stab us in the back.”

Peter said, “Apologize, Argent.”

Chris sighed, “I am sorry for the actions of my family. I am sorry for forcing you to defend yourselves. I am sorry that I did nothing to set things right, until now.”

No one said anything. Allison decided to show up during the long pause. Scott's heartbeat went wild as Allison smiled at him.

Allison broke the silence, “I'm sorry for thinking you're a monster, Scott. You're not. You never were. If anyone was a monster around here, it was Kate and Gerard... and me for hating people that had never intended to harm others.”

Scott looked sadly hopeful. Stiles hadn't talked to Scott much about the fallout from Allison's hurtful mindset, but Isaac had, and Stiles had overheard those conversations more than once. Stiles had no idea which way Scott would choose to go with Allison's new persona.

Stiles said, “So we're not less-than-human to you guys anymore?”

Chris said, “You're not. You never really were. It wasn't until recently that I realized I was thinking in that hateful sort of way. This doesn't change the fact that if one of you goes rabid and kills someone, that I won't hunt you down. It just means that I have no need to be unkind to people who are trying to do the best they can.”

Peter said, “If that happens and one of us comes back from the brink, and you try to kill them, we will stop you.”

Chris said, “I hope that none of you go rabid, then.”

Derek glared, his voice harsh, “We won't. We've never gone rabid.”

Chris said, “That's pretty odd though, isn't it? I know you haven't. I did some research. The Hales have been here at least since 1849 but, according to all the records I could find, aside from a few stray omegas, there hasn't ever been a death by werewolf that ever hinted at your family's involvement. It's quite unheard of.”

Derek said, “Is that really that surprising?”

Chris said, “Yes. It is.”

Derek said, “Then you know less than nothing.”

Silence stretched out into the night. Chris kept an unflinching stare at the Pack. The rest of the pack waited for something else to happen.

Chris said, “If we're done with this posturing, how about you tell me how you know so much about the alpha pack,” Chris looked towards Stiles, “And how Stiles was able to kill three alphas on his own.”

Stiles said, “How about you tell us what you bring to the table, first? 'Cause all I see is a bunch of people with no way to deal with super-speedy-100-year-old-alpha-werewolf assassins.”

More silence.

Erica yelled, “Someone has to go first! Dammit! I want Morgan dead. NOW!”

Danny said, “Stiles is a dragon-thing with lighting bolts and no one knows why.”

Derek growled at Danny.

Danny said, “Fuck you! I want Jackson back! If we're not going to work together then why did we wait for this fucker?”

Peter grunted and rolled his eyes. Chris looked from Danny to Stiles. Derek stepped between Chris and Stiles and everyone grew more impatient. Stiles glared at Derek and put himself back in Chris's line of sight.

Stiles said, “Oh my god, Derek. I love that you do that, but really, but I can handle myself right now.”

Derek glared at Stiles. He glared a lot. Stiles was surprised it still held any power at all. Well, it hadn't held any power over Stiles in a very long time, but other people seemed to take it seriously.

Scott said, “We all want Jackson back. We waited because they have wizards on their side and like, four dozen werewolves with seven of them being alphas.”

Stiles said, “There's a handful of wizards in the whole world, Scott. None of them are here.”

Chris said, “A dragon? You're serious? Lighting too?”

Stiles said, “I'm not a dragon. Crazy people making uninformed crazy conclusions, all of you.”

Peter said, “More like a chimera. Dragon is just an easier and more visually appropriate word for what Stiles has become.”

Stiles said, “Peter's guess is better than the rest, but it's probably still wrong. I haven't even spoken to Alan yet. That reminds me. I need to call him. Or send him a text. I still don't know how to deal with this. And we could use some answers now that we know Chris isn't going to pull a bomb on us.” Stiles looked towards Scott, “Does Alan ever say anything about me or the alpha pack during work?”

Scott answered, “I ask occasionally. He says you're doing well. He doesn't talk about the alpha pack. I don't think he's allowed to talk about everything that he knows.”

Stiles said, “Yeah. He always does that to me, too.” Stiles looked towards town. Alan looked like he was home. Monica's house seemed occupied as well. “I think they're both home right now.”

Stiles looked towards the alpha camp. The dark tangles of were-magic from the many alphas and betas well past Lydia's dark forest lit the edge of Stiles's vision like flood lights. Stiles looked to the rest of his pack. As Stiles focused on Jackson's wellbeing, the strings connecting Danny to Jackson vibrated into clear sight. Jackson was still alive.

But Lydia's strings were gone.

Stiles could still call lighting, and according to a private test he performed in the bathroom, he could still go full-dragon. Why he was able to transform without Lydia was beyond his knowledge. Maybe it was like inflating a balloon so many times it wouldn't return to its original shape. He killed three alphas while he was a dragon and afterward grew much larger, so maybe his balloon analogy was spot on.

He was even able to transform without wearing the bracelet. But when he did that his eyes weren't white. They were bright red. Stiles thought he might have broken something. But that wasn't the scary part.

Shifting didn't hurt. It felt like stepping into his proper skin.

That was the scary part.

_I really need to talk to Alan._

It was probably time for another strategy. Something that didn't involve balloons possibly popping.

Chris said, “Nice white eyes there, Kid. I almost forgotten that you and Lydia were learning from those two. How are they, by the way?”

Stiles said, “Monica is a traitor. She's been working with the alpha pack this whole time. Lydia's killer should have died, not the other way around.” Stiles paused, “Before anyone else divulges any more secrets: It's time for you to give us something. What do you bring to the table anyway, Chris?”

Chris said, “Years of experience and the rest of the hunters that came here for this event. There's about twenty of us. A lot of them veterans. A lot of them want to kill your pack. But I've stopped them from coming here multiple times in the last few months. I will continue to do so if this goes well.”

Stiles found himself laughing. No one else was laughing with him. No one else seemed to get the joke. Stiles's laugh quickly petered out.

Stiles said, “Really? None of you thought that was funny? It's hilarious that he thinks he deserves a medal for doing the right thing. Come on. That is pretty funny stuff.”

Peter said to Chris, “So all you bring is bodies?”

Chris said, “Hunters. Not bodies.” Chris paused, “You share, then I share, then we keep going till we're able to trust each other enough to make a plan. Then we all get along like peaceful neighbors. If we all survive, it would be nice for you if and your's were seen as strangely peaceful within the hunter community. That would be a good thing for you.”

Derek said, “Is that a threat?”

Chris said, “It's a truth. No matter what happens, even if you make it out alive, all of your names are on a list in the hunter database. Not to mention the memories everyone will carry away from here.”

Danny said, “A computerized list?”

Chris said, “Mostly.”

Stiles said, “Are you really trying to work with us?”

Chris said, “You've never hurt anyone in anything other than self defense or righteous revenge. So that makes you Good in my book. I'd much rather work _with_ you than _against_ you. I'm sorry it took me so long to see that.”

Stiles said, “Well. Good.”

Stiles decided on his new strategy. Stiles walked forward, much to Derek's annoyance, and held his hand out. Chris smiled and shook Stiles's hand.

It felt ten times more intense than shaking Old Marge's hand.

In half a second Stiles analyzed and categorized his stance and the positions of everyone else in relation to both escape, and killing them all. Then came cynical thoughts of what the repercussions of each death would be. Then came thoughts of how this handshake could turn into a fight, and then how to make the outcome favorable to himself.

Stiles had been underestimating Chris's intensity this whole time.

Stiles had also been underestimating exactly how much Chris wanted Stiles and his Pack to be Good.

Chris said, “Are we good now?”

Stiles took a step back and said, “Yeah. We're good.”

Scott said, “Can you still see the alpha pack, Stiles?”

Stiles took a step further back from Chris. With another half a thought his left hand sprouted shiny while scales and huge talons. His eyesight was as clear as it ever was. The alpha pack was still there to the west. Monica and Alan were still safe in town.

When Chris flinched backwards Stiles felt oddly joyful at surprising such a veteran hunter.

Stiles said, “I probably should have told you earlier, Scott. And Derek, too. This doesn't feel temporary. I even did a full transformation without the bracelet. I probably broke something.”

Scott looked concerned, but Stiles felt less and less like that mattered. Instead of focusing solely on one person like Scott did while he was with Allison, and Stiles prayed Scott never turned into that sappy puppy ever again, Scott's ability to multitask towards the wellbeing of everyone became his defining trait. And he was good at it, too. But sometimes Scott was just annoying. Stiles was a big boy. He was able to take care of himself.

Scott pulled out his phone, “I'm calling Alan.”

Peter said, “Erica and Boyd made some lovely chocolate chip cookies. Why don't we all go sit down while we wait for the good veterinarian to make his allegiance known.”

Peter was the first to leave the standoff in the front driveway. Erica and Boyd were next. Isaac went after Danny, who stormed into the house without another word. Scott spoke to Alan on the phone and walked into the house. Allison gave one look to Chris before nodding and following Scott. Allison entered the house without issue.

It was then that Derek noticeably relaxed. Lydia might be gone, but her warding roses should have given Allison a hint of a pause if Allison meant the Pack any harm.

Derek sighed and glanced towards Stiles. For all Derek did to exude a tough exterior and powerful posture for Chris, one simple look at Stiles stripped away all of that illusion. Derek was worried. It was his whole persona. Most of the time Derek's insecurities were hidden beneath layers of attitude and power, but in that moment Stiles saw all the way through to the real Derek.

Derek glanced from Stiles's transformed hand back to Chris. Derek exuded control and power once again.

Stiles shook his hand back to normal. The scales twisted into a fine white mist and vanished under the light of the full moon.

Chris said, “You all have excellent control with there being a full moon.”

Derek said, “I am sorry for your wife. I did not mean for that to happen.”

Chris flinched, closed his eyes, and tried to regain his composure. He looked towards the rebuilt Hale House, “You fought to save your Pack. I can't blame you for that. I wish that she was here, but since that won't happen, I'll raise Allison to not fall to the same hate that killed her mother. But. Thank you for apologizing. That means a lot.”

Derek said, “Thank you, too. That means a lot, too. Since you seem to really mean it.”

Chris said, “Just don't go ki-”

Stiles interrupted, “Oh my god! We know: 'Don't kill anyone.' It's like you think we're monsters or something. If we're done with this run around: I want some cookies. You're not allergic to anything, are you, Chris? I know Allison isn't. For a long time there Scott just couldn't shut up about everything Allison. I even know what her favorite dessert is, for crying out loud. It's her moth-... Err...”

Chris grinned, “Victoria's pumpkin pie. I tried to make it last month with store bought stuff. It didn't turn out very well.”

Stiles said, “It's not really the season for pumpkin pie, anyway.”

Derek stood aside. Chris took the invitation and walked into the house. Stiles put his left arm around Derek's shoulders once Chris vanished from sight. Derek returned the gesture with his own arm wrapped behind Stiles's back.

Stiles whispered, “You okay?”

Derek nodded and squeezed Stiles close before letting go. Derek went into the house. Stiles followed and caught the last bit of Scott's call with Alan.

Alan said, “I'll be there in ten minutes.”

The living room had been functionally split in two. Chris and Allison stood on one side. Isaac, Danny, Peter, and Scott stood on the other side. All the chairs in the room remained unoccupied and pushed away from a central table. Boyd and Erica were in the kitchen placing cookies onto trays, taking cookies out of the oven to cool, and adding to the growing pile of baked goods.

Scott put his phone back in his pocket and turned towards Derek, “Alan tried to say that he would take care of it, but this is not going to turn into another Gerard. He should be here in ten minutes.”

As soon as Scott said it everyone but Allison turned towards Chris.

Chris said, “He killed twenty two people that we know of. So. Like Stiles said: If we're done with this runaround... I understand you've made some cookies?”

With perfect timing, Erica and Boyd strode into the living room with a plate full of chocolate chip cookies, cups full of ice, and two bottles of soda. They placed them on the living room table.

Erica picked up a cookie and said, “So what's the plan? How do we kill them and not die in the process?”

Boyd picked up two cookies, “We have other soda in the fridge, if you want that.”

The whole conversations took a surreal turn. Chris was in their living room discussing what he was able to do, now that he knew where the alphas were, and Derek was pointing out exactly why Stiles couldn't just blast them all. There might be wizards, after all, like Scott said. Then Isaac went to the kitchen to get more soda and offered to get beer for anyone that wanted one. Then more theories about why the alpha pack would want a Kanima. Then came the question of who in the Pack would want to kill an alpha, because that is a lot of responsibility.

It was an obvious conversation they needed to have. If not for the actual fight, because plans and reality rarely mix well, just ask Lydia, but just so that everyone knew exactly how far they were willing to go. Part of Stiles wanted to just fly in and kill them all and take the power for himself, but he doesn't give voice to that idea. Killing three alphas has already broken him. What would killing seven more do?

Besides, there might be wizards there. And who knows what they can do, as Scott has said for the third time.

Stiles knew that he would love to let himself go to the power coursing below his skin, and that he never wanted to leave his Pack, his father, or Derek. But those were conflicting thoughts. Stiles couldn't have both.

It became painfully obvious that the Pack, his father, and Derek were, and would always be, the clear winners.

Danny said, “How are we going to get Jackson back?”

Chris said, “That is the tough part. If it wasn't for Jackson, I would suggest lighting and wolfsbane grenades.”

Scott said, “They will hear any attack coming from miles away. The range for them hearing normal speaking is somewhere around four miles. It might be less with three of them gone, or it might not.”

Stiles said, “And we have no idea what sort of magic they have on their side. Otherwise I would just do that with the lighting. It seems super effective.”

Chris said, “How accurate are you?”

Stiles said, “Reasonably.”

Isaac said, “We're going to have to kill people, aren't we?”

Chris said, “Yes.”

Isaac said, “Is there no other way?”

Chris said, “If it helps: The Alpha Pack has been responsible for the deaths of ten of thousands over the course of its existence.”

Stiles noticed a difference between himself and all the other teenagers in the room. Whereas Peter, Derek, and Chris all focused on numbers and hard decisions, the others deflected the conversation towards less lethal matters. Except Erica and Boyd.

Those two were ready to kill. There is no doubt about that.

Chris spoke and looked towards Stiles, “By the way. Why aren't any of you exhibiting any of the classical werewolf-on-the-full-moon symptoms? You're too controlled for this to have come from training. Especially Erica, Boyd, and Danny.”

Stiles said, “Totally not me. But we shouldn't give up all of our secrets anyway. I'm sure you're keeping some in reserve, too.”

Chris said, “Fair enough.”

Scott said, “Where is Alan?”

Stiles looked and saw Alan's distinctive magical signature like a tiny light shining through the walls of the Hale House. Alan hadn't left his house. There was something else there too. Something like a dense fog squeezing against him.

Looking towards the other side of the town, Monica's house was empty.

Stiles said, “That might not be good... Try calling him again, Scott. He might need our help.”

Scott tried, “Directly to voicemail.”

Stiles said, “We should probably go and save the good veterinarian. It looks like someone is attacking him and starting to break his defenses. I think it's Monica.”

Scott's eyes went wide before he rushed out of the house. Chris was the second to last one out the door. Stiles lagged behind and made hurry-up motions with his hands.

Chris said, “Why aren't you hurrying?”

Stiles said, “Dude! I'm just going to fly there.”

Chris said, “Do you know why Superman walks at all?”

Stiles said, “I always preferred Batman.”

“It's so he doesn't lose his grip on his humanity. There was a whole comic devoted to that facet of his personality. You should keep that in mind.”

Chris rushed to his car. Allison was already seated and waiting for him. Stiles felt a little bit more disconnected as Chris's words sunk in and everyone else vanished from normal sight.

The Pack expected him to follow. That's how they had trained for situations like this. Stiles wasn't going to abandon his pack. He just didn't want to run there. Was that so bad?

“Dammit. I'll be humble when the alpha pack is dead.”

Stiles stripped off his shirt and shorts, flashed his full body transformation, and carefully put his shorts back on. His feet talons only slightly ripped the fabric but his tail was having none of this clothing nonsense. His shorts hung down past his ass. Stiles felt a bit awkward as he jumped into the sky and quickly overtook the Pack.

The feeling of flying was just as intoxicating this time as it was this morning. Stiles rationalized that if he didn't get over this feeling, that it would keep coming back. The sooner he got over the thrill of flying the better he could handle flying when he needed to. Absolutely no issues would come from this perfect solution. Obviously.

Alan's house sat under assault from half-invisible spells. Shadowy vines crawled across the exterior and met the resistance of a dull light as they tried to crush down. Stiles searched for Monica's true location inside the illusory shadows that spread out like a cloud from one side of the yard. Stiles saw her standing near a fire hydrant.

She waved her arms around to pull up more shadow vines from the earth. In her right hand was the small tail spine that Stiles had given to Lydia. The only piece of himself that they didn't find at Lydia's house.

Stiles should have sent a warning shot down first. Maybe they could talk about her reasons for helping to kill Lydia. _Why_ , was a question that Stiles needed to know. But seeing Monica use a gift of himself that he had given to Lydia clouded his judgment. The thin white bolt came down on Monica's head but deflected off of the raised tail spine to strike the nearby fire hydrant.

_Didn't work, eh?_

Water and shadow vines rocketed into the sky. Stiles flew up another hundred feet and easily dodged the grasping tendrils.

_Don't get close. Fine. I can work with that._

Stiles controlled his voice to a low rumble, “Why, Monica?”

Monica tried to run. Another bolt landed beside her. She collapsed to the ground as the rest of the Pack arrived. They fanned out to surround her and prevent further escape.

_Even when I miss it still hits. If she was still in the water from the fire hydrant she'd be dead._

Monica's voice was faint, “Kill me and I kill Lydia.”

Stiles paused. The rest of the wolfed-out pack paused, too.

Danny said, “She's already dead.”

Monica said, “She isn't dead.” Strands of darkness pulled Monica's wounds together. The Pack kept their distance as they waited for something more. As she healed she held up Stiles's tail spine, “She had a backup. She's riding this spine, but I'll break it and you'll never get her back.”

Derek said, “Leave it on the ground and walk away. We won't chase you if you're telling the truth.”

Monica said, “What guarantee do I have that you will honor that?”

Stiles said, “The same one we have that you're telling the truth.”

Lightning cascaded across the sky.

Derek said, “If this is a trick: We will find you. You can't hide from us.”

Monica said, “It's not a trick. If you hurry, you might even get to use tonight's full moon.”

Monica placed the spine on the ground and stepped away. Shadows fell from her body as she moved, eventually completely hiding her true location. By the time Chris showed up, Monica had limped past the Pack and was long gone from normal sight.

The shadow vines constricting Alan's house dissipated. Stiles touched down a dozen feet from the spike and shed his scales in a glowing white cloud. He hiked up his shorts and stared at the pack. No one was calm in Stiles's presence anymore. That was going to get really annoying. Maybe he should be a dragon more so they acclimate to it faster.

Stiles said, “What? I'm still me. I just have an extra mode now.”

Alan's voice called out from his house as Danny motioned to pick up the tail spine.

Alan said, “Don't touch it!” He spoke as he walked closer, “Monica shielded herself from its influence, but if any of you touch it Lydia might take you for a ride-along.”

Stiles said, “That is sort of the point. We're getting her back.”

Alan said, “You shouldn't mess with death-magic. I know how you feel but the dead should stay dead.”

Stiles laughed, “No fucking way. I've read that same speech a dozen times in too many books to take it seriously anymore. Peter came back. Most would say he came back better than he was before. Ten times better, too! Why would Lydia be any different?”

Peter grinned at the obvious complement. Stiles walked over to the spine and grabbed it as Alan gasped. Stiles looked into its moonlit surface and saw strands of strange glowing energy swirling within.

Stiles said, “I don't think Monica was lying. How would we work this, anyway? I can't cut myself with this.”

Alan said, “Stiles! Stop that! What has happened to you?”

Stiles said, “Death and kidnapping of friends. Transformation into a dragon and a pack bond without the bracelet. And I killed three alphas this morning. That is what probably led to this draconic thing being so permanent. So. You know. Just a normal day in Beacon Hills. Hey Peter: Her body is all in pieces and covered in toxic poison. Could a resurrection even work for a non-werewolf the same way it worked for you?”

Peter said, “No. She would have tried something else. Knowing an alpha was coming after her, she probably intended to stab or scratch Morgan with that as a last ditch effort.”

Alan said, “How can you even think of resurrecting her? She won't come back the same!”

Stiles said, “Peter came back better. I'd expect nothing less from Lydia.”

Alan said, “Can we at least talk about this somewhere else? With a bit more time for me to tell you all the reasons you shouldn't do this?”

Alan pointed to the lights coming on in the windows of nearby houses.

Derek said, “Come to our house. We can talk there.”

Alan protested, “I can't leave my house. They're probably out there, waiting.”

Stiles said, “They're not. I can see them. They're trying to tear away Jackson's humanity to revert him to a Kanima. They're not interested in us right now.”

Alan gave Stiles a strange look before nodding, “Then you could see Monica attacking me as well?”

Stiles said, “Of course. We couldn't let her get to you. You're our friend, after all.”

Stiles meant the words as truth but they gave Alan pause. Alan seemed torn between concern and condemnation.

Alan said, “I'll meet you at the Hale House. I have to get some supplies, first. I'd also like to have a long talk with you about what you're turning into, Stiles.”

Stiles said, “I'll wait here for you, then. Can't have Monica changing her mind about killing you, can we?”

Derek and Danny waited with Stiles. Chris said he had seen enough. It was time for him to get things ready on his end. The Pack went to the Hale House and Chris went to his own people.

 

As it neared midnight with the moon shining from straight above, Stiles sat in the front seat of Alan's car for the drive back at the Hale House. Danny and Derek glared at them from the back seat. Stiles remained as silent as he was shirtless. No one talked.

He tried not to show embarrassment for all of his freckles and imperfections in front of Alan, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't until after they got back to the house and he put on his shirt, folded and set aside on the front porch by what smelled like Peter, that Stiles felt like talking again.

Stiles led the way into the house, “We're back!”

Peter sat on the couch in the living room, “I found a few things from Lydia in my email. She recorded the conversation that set off Morgan. And a set of instructions for her resurrection if her initial plan didn't work. You might want to see these.”

 

Fifteen minutes later: Stiles, Alan, and the rest of the Pack tried to make sense of the videos they had just seen.

Danny said, “So we take the spine and slice an alpha with it? Stiles will have to do it since he can't accidentally hurt himself with the spine. Hell. Morgan might even let Stiles get close enough to do it without any trouble.”

Scott said, “Wow. That's pretty cold, Danny.”

Peter said, “I knew I liked you, Danny.”

Danny grumbled.

Stiles held the spine in his hands. He stared at the shimmering strands of light within the translucent white spine. Those twisting strands felt small compared to the person Stiles called Lydia. Holding her life, literally, in his hands, was something so completely weird that he had no idea what to do.

Lydia was the type of person that would never want, or rely on, anyone's help.

_But everyone needs help every once in a while. I like Danny's idea. Stab Morgan to bring back Lydia. Seems like a good idea._

Stiles said, “Until we have a better plan. I like Danny's idea.”

Boyd and Erica both said, “Me too.”

Alan said, “This is wrong.”

Peter said, “Alan. Your reluctance to fully divulge your information has cost lives, and will likely cost more when we attack not knowing who they have on their side. Considering how much you are telling us I suspect you know a great deal more. So until you decide to spill everything, your concerns hold little weight.”

Scott said, “What Peter said.”

Alan sighed, “Okay. The alpha pack has one mage that I know of. That Fred in the video is that mage. He is a disgraced member of my organization but he shouldn't pose much of a threat in person. Probably less threatening than Monica, actually.”

Danny said, “Why did they take Jackson?”

Alan said, “That requires some explanation on multiple fronts:

“Killing a person, that act of purposefully and violently releasing someone from their mortal coil, shocks both the killer and the victim in a very spiritual way. This is the reason that the alpha power transfers from a defeated alpha into a victorious beta, for example.

“This is also the reason that Matt started to transform into a Kanima as he had Jackson kill more and more people. The act of murder for murder's sake sent shock waves through Matt's pack-bond with Jackson. Every death transformed them both just a little bit more.

“Kanimas can be fixed if they resolve whatever issues they are having, but that doesn't change their nature. It just suppresses it, like how a pack helps to stabilize its members. Therefore, it is possible, given enough knowledge of how a cured-Kanima solved their issues, to tear those away those anchors and revert the person back into a Kanima. The need for this knowledge is probably one of the many reasons why they gave you so much time to get ready, and also why they chose to kill Lydia first. Then they took him away to finish the process.

“Lydia taunted them into action. So I doubt they were completely ready for this. But they might be. Only time will tell on that front.

“If I was to hazard a guess at the real reason the alpha pack wants a Kanima, taking into account how Lydia turned up immune to toxins and the Bite, and Danny's unnatural lycanthropy, and Stiles's unconventional ability to shift at all, and even how obvious Matt was changing, the alpha pack probably wishes to use this mutagenic ability in some way. Either to change themselves, or to change others.

“Since they have a history of going after strange and unusual cases while reveling in their own power, I would guess they want to use a Kanima to mutate others.

“In fact: That might be their real goal. They might want to mutate as many people as possibly and engineer it so that the mutations keep spreading far and wide. It would give them much more entertainment if they could never run out of interesting targets.”

Alan finished his speech. Scott looked a little lost, but Stiles knew Scott was keeping up. Scott was probably thinking about how horrible it would be for all those people to be changed against their will.

Scott said, “They want to change people against their will? We have to stop them.”

_Oh yeah. Called it. I totally know my best friend._

Danny said, “I'm a mutant?”

Alan said, “Well... Yes. But that's not a bad thing.”

Scott said, “You really think he wants to use it on others?”

Alan said, “Considering the close contact all of you have had over the last few months I doubt any werewolf could even be affected by the mutagenic qualities of a Kanima. These special cases probably have their beginnings during the time when Jackson was a Kanima and directly influenced the lives of an untainted Lydia, Danny, and Stiles. I bet several of your classmates are in similar but smaller boats as you three. They just don't know it because they have had little direct involvement, or the Bite.”

Stiles said, “If he wants targets: Why doesn't he just take his alpha pack and go on a Biting spree? Why do it this way?”

Alan said, “I doubt Demetrio wants to Bite people just to watch what happens. Those they Bite become their Pack.” Alan turned towards Derek, “Would you ever Bite someone just to see how they would turn out?”

Derek said, “No.”

Scott said, “Pack is a chosen family. I would never do that to anyone.”

Derek said, “I would never consciously Bite someone just to toy with them.”

Alan said, “Exactly.”

Stiles said, “So he wants to make people shift like Matt was starting to.”

Alan said, “Probably more than that. If possible, more like Danny, Lydia, and you, Stiles. Monica's side of our organization would love that sort of thing so it doesn't surprise me that she was helping them.”

Stiles said, “Why did Monica come after you?”

Alan said, “I was reporting her to my side of our organization. Direct involvement with the alpha pack is forbidden. She intercepted the message. Her options were either kill me, or accept exile.”

Stiles said, “Monica organized the thing with Gerard, didn't she?”

Alan said, “Probably. She didn't get what she wanted right then. But since you killed three alphas this morning she eventually got her way.”

Derek said, “You've known about all of this for a long time, haven't you?”

Alan said, “I know more than you need to know. Yes.”

Peter said, “How will your organization respond to all of this?”

Alan said, “They already responded. I've been given full authority to help you with direct questions and supplies, just not with physically assisting you.”

Stiles said, “When did that happen?”

Alan said, “On the drive over here and during Lydia's videos. Telepathy.”

Stiles said, “Why is resurrecting Lydia a bad idea?”

Alan said, “Lydia was educated with half-truths and evasive answers. Monica purposefully did a horrible job. How could she possibly get it right? I mean... Were you teaching her too, Peter?”

Peter said, “Of course I was. Completely honestly, too. I can't do any of it myself, but Lydia is a natural.”

Alan said. “Well... She might come back. But I doubt she will be herself. Her plan didn't even make use of her own body.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like it? Comments are always welcome!
> 
> If I haven't driven you off yet, and if you'd like, you can follow me at: arcs-of-light.tumblr.com


	8. Peter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's perspective on life and everything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter is wonderful. I love the character so much.

Peter had already watched the videos that Lydia had sent him well before he showed them to the rest of the Pack. During that time between Lydia's death and Chris's invitation to join them at the house, while inside his room with earphones in and plans of attack being thrown around in the living room, Peter had mixed feelings about what to do with the strange videos.

 

Lydia's ability to puzzle out how all the pieces went together, her ruthlessness in rearranging the puzzle to suit her needs, and her ability to introduce new pieces that irrevocably messed up the whole board, all came together to make her Peter's most dangerous foe, and Peter's most interesting companion.

She was his biggest threat to all of his plans for the future. Peter wanted to kill every single Argent in the world. To wipe out that hated family once and for all. Sure, it would take him a long time, but he had the time and he had the desire to follow through all the way to the end.

The alpha pack was a nuisance and nothing more. For a brief while he had considered going over to their side only because of the power it would bring him. He had even been approached with such an offer.

Kill Derek, bring them Jackson and Stiles, then Peter would be one of them.

They brought their offer to him during the very first days of the alpha pack's declaration of conquest. Peter doubted the alpha pack would be willing to systematically slaughter the Argents like Peter desired. But for a few days, Peter had considered the offer.

But then Derek confronted him outside the Hale House. Peter finally had the opportunity to air his grievances about every idiotic things Derek had ever done. From letting Kate lead Derek around by the dick, to Derek crying for six years while their family's murders roamed free, to Laura's and Derek's inability to get revenge, to why Peter was forced to kill incompetent Laura because she had failed to use her power correctly. Everything was finally out in the open.

Derek responded how an alpha should. He rose to the challenge with bared teeth and claws ready for blood. Peter let himself feel fear and Derek slashed to the bone instead of going for the kill.

Of course Derek couldn't actually kill Peter again. If the past six years were any indication: Derek had a hard time killing. So, everything was still going according to plan.

Then Derek did something unexpected. He acknowledged his mistakes and tried to make things right between them. Derek wanted Peter to integrate into Derek's new Pack, and Derek truly meant it.

That was the first time Peter paused and reconsidered his plans to kill Derek and move onto the Argents. He remembered Derek as a small boy. All happiness and laughter and completely a child. Peter hadn't seen Derek as a man until just then. A man that might be capable of making the tough decisions. Derek was a long way off from that point, but it was now conceivable that Derek might be there one day.

Peter fought off that emotion. It did nothing but complicate his future plans. There was no way that these teenagers with their rose-colored outlooks, and an emotionally stunted and cowardly alpha, would ever be a willing part of his plans for revenge. And besides: If Peter lingered on the thought of being in a stable Pack for any length of time, he came to the conclusion that being in a willing Pack was nice.

So Peter cooperated with the Pack and made an effort to integrate, for now. Not for the comfort it provided, but as a good cover for Peter's future plans.

The next days were an amazing whirlwind of Derek falling for an insistent Stiles and Danny's calming ability spreading across the Pack like a gentle wave. Derek found a healthy anchor and everyone was forced to work together or else the alpha pack was going to kill them all.

Through those influences, Derek's ability as an alpha multiplied and the Pack truly began to feel like home.

Peter's conviction for revenge was still there. But it was a much smaller voice than it was when he had the alpha power. He missed the strength, but he was able to think so much more clearly these days.

When Stiles and Lydia displayed an affinity for magic Peter was faced with another choice.

Lydia was able to do everything that Peter showed her while Peter was a ghost riding Lydia's mind. The fact that she did well with magic came as no surprise. But Stiles having the spark was yet another gem unearthed in this new Pack.

Approaching the Pack at this moment in time with the idea of murdering all the Argents was not an option for many reasons beyond the immediate threat of the alpha pack. And Peter had always had an interest in magic. So, distracting himself from revenge became easy and entertaining when he began to show his knowledge to Lydia.

It helped that teaching Lydia would also gain him a valuable resource for the future.

After Lydia got over being used by Peter, Lydia was a wonderful person to communicate with. She caught on to everything within one or two examples and even supplied her own answers when Peter couldn't do the magic himself. Lydia was also the only one who could speak to him on his own level.

She was also the most delightfully ruthless person Peter had ever met. Not only was she smart, but she used her intelligence to make everyone around her better than they were before. If Peter was her age he would have desired a romantic relationship.

But there was one problem. Lydia had no interest at all in Peter's revenge.

At that revelation, Peter recognized the incompatibilities between their desired futures. Peter's future was one of blood and death. Lydia wanted to dominate and direct the world to make it a better place.

Stiles though...

Stiles was something else entirely. Before he learned magic, Stiles was smart and strong in a way much different from Lydia. While Lydia had a clear lack of bloodlust, Stiles hovered on the edge of morality. Stiles's innate instinct was to kill to protect. Stiles was the first to throw that awful flaming liquid at Peter. He was also the first to suggest they kill Monica for her transgressions against the Pack.

Peter knew that Stiles would make an excellent beta if he chose a true Bite instead of the false power of his bracelet. If he took the Bite, Peter could easily see Stiles becoming an alpha in his own right. As it was, Stiles's influence, though not direct as it would have been were he a werewolf, at least had the effect of making Derek a better and more stable alpha. Stiles's history with Scott, even with Scott being more friendly with Isaac than with Stiles these days, also seemed to make Scott a better alpha, too.

Scott was doing a great job with the mundane chores of being an alpha. Scott's ability to keep together under the fires of battle was something that hadn't been truly tested, so only time would tell on that front. Scott was also young. The possibilities for easy influence were endless. Killing Scott for the alpha power would be much easier than killing Derek, too.

Peter began to think of Scott as a temporary container. A holder for the alpha power until Peter decided to take it from Scott with claws and teeth. So, for now, Peter played the waiting game.

Derek and Scott could be reasoned with to follow Peter's directives. Stiles was a wild card now that he had the most physical power in the Pack, but even Stiles could be controlled through Derek and Scott. But if Peter helped to resurrect Lydia, Lydia's powers, both magically and mentally, would guarantee that her desires would direct the future of the Pack.

Lydia might be able to see through Peter's plans, but Peter could wait for years and Lydia had plans to go to college at MIT. As soon as she was gone, but still an ally, Peter could freely move to take his revenge.

It would be nice to kill the Argents when they weren't expecting it. After all, revenge was better when the enemy was scared and confused. The more Peter made himself a part of this Pack, the more this new allegiance with Chris developed, the less they were able to see his plans and the more power he could accrue.

A wonderful idea popped into Peter's head.

If the Argents started to think of the Hales as strangely peaceful, then more of them would come to Beacon Hills. They would treat the Hales like lab rats that could talk. Peter would stomach the indignation if that was the full extent of the humiliation he would have to sustain from the Argents. More Argents would follow those first ones and the Argent family would become comfortable here. If Scott returned to Allison, and they married, the Argent family might show up for the event.

Peter would rip them apart and bathe in their blood. Allison would scream while Peter saved her for last. Or, Peter would just rig the whole place to blow sky high. It wouldn't be as satisfying to do it that way, but it would be the safest.

 

As Peter watched Lydia's videos he tried to puzzle out what a resurrected Lydia would do.

It was almost a moot point to reveal the videos at that moment. They didn't even have the spine. It was the one piece that they couldn't find at Lydia's house. Then things changed.

Before Peter knew what was happening, Chris Argent was peacefully conversing with the Pack at the Hale House. Chris apologized for the actions of his family and meant every word of it. Peter acted the part of a relieved individual and everyone thought it a wonderful event.

Then they had to go rescue Alan. They got the spine and Alan was fully cooperative and Stiles said that Peter was more of an asset than he was a detriment. Chris wasn't a direct threat anymore and Stiles's approval was unexpectedly nice.

So Peter showed them the videos.

Peter rationalized his choice as Lydia being one of their best assets in the coming fight. Peter needed a lot of time to make things right with the world and he was beyond tired of this alpha pack shit. So Peter played the part of a cooperative ally and hoped the Pack would move against the alpha pack tonight. The murdered Hales could wait. Peter was a patient person.

 

Peter's brother didn't survive the fire. Peter's sister in law died too. Derek's other two brother's didn't survive the fire. There were others that lived there too, but Peter couldn't bear to think of them too much. Memories of their laughter and smiling faces turned to and screams and blood if he lingered too long in thought. But two specific faces, two smiles and two lovely voices, he could concentrate on those memories long before they turned to pain.

Peter's wife and daughter. They turned to ash that day but Peter could still recall a good memory every once in a while.

So, now was not the time for revenge. Peter could wait. He could wait a long time.

Not a single Argent would be spared Peter's wrath.

 

“Peter. Peter!”

Peter returned to the moment. The conversation was about attacking tonight. Someone had said they wanted to go right now. Who was it? Stiles. Stiles had said he wanted to attack right now. Then Derek said no. Scott said no. Danny said yes. Chris wasn't ready. Alan suggested they wait. The alpha pack would be twice as powerful with tonight's full moon than they would be tomorrow.

Why was Stiles looking at him? They wanted his advice? No. Stiles wanted his advice. Stiles was purposefully including him in the conversation. At least the boy recognized genius when he needed it.

Stiles said, “Peter?”

Peter said, “What?”

“You're the only one that hasn't said if they want to attack tonight, or wait for tomorrow.”

Erica and Boyd were talking to Isaac. Everyone else glanced at him.

“Sorry. I need a drink. I side with whatever you decide, Stiles. Derek.”

A ridiculous grin broke across Stiles's face. Derek seemed equally surprised. Peter got up and walked away. He grabbed a beer from the fridge then decided he wanted something stronger. Peter rummaged through the supplies until he found the Crown Royal. He poured himself a glass and listened to the talks in the living room without taking part in them. There were four hours left to the night when Alan pulled out the big guns. Knowledge of what Stiles was becoming. Peter didn't move from his spot as he listened exclusively to that conversation.

Alan said, “You shouldn't transform so much, Stiles. You're going to lose your mind to the power. Even now, you feel the desire to go outside, transform, and kill them all, don't you?”

Stiles said, “Of course I do! I don't get why you're trying to talk me out of it. I've read enough stories about the temptation of power to know what lies down that path. Why do you think I can't handle it? And why does that even matter? We need to do this. It's not something we can avoid. If I can put myself out there so others don't have to then I will. It's as simple as that.”

“It's not as simple as that. I know we've talked about this. I know I've warned you about this before. Magic grows. It never stops growing. The more you tap into it, the more you want to tap into it. Do you not understand that?”

Stiles grunted, “If you're just going to ignore the fact that I'm our best weapon, then I don't think this conversation is going to be very productive.”

Derek said, “Have you asked your organization about Stiles?”

Alan said, “Of course I haven't. That's a kind of problem, too. I can't ask them about similar cases. If they knew they would come here to investigate and you don't want that. Monica is disgraced now, but she has to have told her side about you. If you continue to abuse magic then the investigators they send out here will catch on only because you won't be able to stop yourself.”

Stiles said, “You're gonna have to tell me why you think this is a bad thing with more reasons than 'someone might someday come out here'. While you're at it: tell me why any of this is happening at all.”

Alan said, “I think I can do that second part more easily than try to convince you to stop. Right?” Stiles seemed adamant, so Alan continued, “Right. So let me try to explain this. I'm going on guesses here. Killing with one's hands and teeth enables the transfer of alpha power from one werewolf to another. There have been experiments where a beta kills an alpha by using a bow and arrow, for example, and the killer does not become an alpha. Normally, a mage kills through non-physical means or the equivalent of a bow and arrow. The death process normally doesn't trigger a change in a mage's case because of this principle. It still triggers, just not as much. The only case I know of where a human killed an alpha is the one with the twins in Canada. You remember that one, right? A mother with unborn twins killed an alpha and the power went to the unborn twins. But that's the only case I know of, so I can't tell you what is actually going on with you right now.

“Since you've been exposed to the Kanima's toxins you have this mutable thing happening to you, just like Matt. Monica would know more since she seems to have attempted to engineer you killing an alpha. My best guess is that you're probably full of alpha power that either: Hasn't settled and/or is trying to settle. Or it has settled and you're lying about still being able to use the bracelet-”

Stiles interrupted, “I have used it! I used it on Chris today! It worked very well!”

Alan continued, “Either way, you are currently suffering from intense bloodlust and are unable to think clearly. If you were able to think clearly, you would know that satisfying that bloodlust is the quickest path to insanity. Any werewolf would tell you the same thing.”

Stiles said, “Oh my god! We can't wait. Lydia needs the full moon! Besides: I have no bloodlust. I haven't been turned at all. I can still do magic. This desire to kill the alpha pack is me thinking completely logically, and nothing more.”

Alan said, “Then I don't know what the hell is happening. Were-creatures can't do magic, but mages succumb to the Bite all the time. Maybe if you take off the bracelet and put the rowan belt back on, it might purge whatever is happening to you.”

Stiles said, “I'd lose the bond I've made. The belt isn't an option right now.”

Alan said, “Do you want a bond, or do you want to be alive and yourself six months from now? If you don't stop this process you're probably going to end up an alpha yourself.”

“Is that your professional opinion? What about your logical opinion? I mean really. Is giving this power up, no matter what it is or where it comes from, really the best option? Are you saying that me killing a few dozen wolves and a handful of alphas is truly a bad idea? I don't want any of your 'don't kill anyone' bullshit, either. This is do or die with consequences well beyond this little town.”

Alan sighed, “My opinion is that you have a choice. I won't make that decision for you. I also won't be held responsible if you end up exploding or going insane.”

No one said anything. Peter walked back into the living room during the long pause in the debate. Derek loomed near Stiles as Stiles stood with his arms defiantly crossed. Scott stood with Deaton and glared at Stiles. Boyd, Erica, Isaac, and Danny, watched from their seats scattered around the room.

Peter said, “You should at least wait for the hunters. That way they die out there instead of coming back here to finish us off.”

Scott said, “What? You want to use them as cannon fodder?”

Peter said, “Stop thinking of them as friends. Just because Chris has said some pretty words doesn't mean he's changed. It certainly doesn't mean that the other hunters won't come up here and try to kill us when we're through with the alpha pack. The sooner you learn to kill, the sooner we can end this current threat and prepare for the next.”

Scott's eyes flared red but he didn't move, “Fine. Just because you're right doesn't mean I have to like it.”

Peter said, “I suggest Stiles goes in, injects Lydia into Morgan, then gets the out of there with Jackson.”

Stiles said, “What would happen to Morgan? Lydia talked like you haunted her for months. Will we have to wait months for Lydia to come back?”

Alan threw up his hands and sat down. He remained silent.

Peter said, “I doubt it will take months. She has learned a lot more than the simple ritual I taught her for my own resurrection. We still have a few hours till sunrise. I suggest everyone makes a decision fast.”

Stiles said, “What are the chances they would kill Jackson if things go south and I have to escape?”

Derek said, “You're not going alone.”

Alan said, “They would want him alive to produce his toxins. If all you did was go in and slice an alpha with Lydia and left... Lydia might resurrect inside a hostile camp. Or she might control the alpha into getting away. I don't know.”

Stiles said, “Then I'm going tonight, I'm going alone, and I am bringing back Jackson and maybe Lydia. We have a pack bond now so you can check up on me whenever you want.” Stiles paused and turned towards Alan, “Do you think Monica tipped them off about the nature of the spine?”

Alan shook his head, “Sorry. This is out of my league. I have no way of knowing anything about any of this without consulting with my people, but I'm not going to do that. I'm gonna go with 'I have no clue if Monica told them' and leave it at that.”

Stiles turned to Peter, “Peter?”

Peter said, “You're the only one I know of that can see magic. Tell me: Does that spine look strange to you? Because it looks rather plain and opaquely white to me.”

Stiles said, “It's glowing with prismatic strings of energy. Werewolves are dark strings. Alan is a small bundle of white strings. They kinda just float off into nothing. They're always there but I can ignore them most of the time.”

Alan said, “Don't tell people you can see magic. Just... Don't. It will not end well for you if that gets out. Magic is normally invisible unless it is actively changing something. What you're probably seeing are the fractures between mages and werewolves and the higher and lower dimensions that magic comes from. Have you looked at yourself in a mirror?”

“... So I've got three hours of moonlight left. Plenty of time.”

Peter said, “The spine is rather solid, right?”

Stiles said, “I tried breaking a scale and it wouldn't break. I'm not testing this spine.”

Peter said, “Then throw the spine to Morgan when they confront you. Tell them it protects from your lightning. Of course, one of their lackeys could pick it up and cut themselves with it. So you might have to do better than just hope that Morgan picks it up. Or: Go in with guns blazing. Scatter them away from Jackson and pick off Morgan later.”

Alan said, “That second one is probably the safest option.”

Scott said, “You can't go on your own, Stiles!

Stiles ignored Scott, “Good idea, Peter. I like the second one much better.”

Scott said, “God damn! Stiles! There has to be a better way.”

Stiles said, “Shut the hell up, Scott. You're being counter productive. I'm going to scatter them away from Jackson, save Jackson, then go after one of the alphas. I'll stay in the sky until it is safe to attack one of them. Call our parents and get them here so that you guys can protect them.”

Erica said, “Is that the plan we're going with? We protect our families while Stiles rescues Jackson and revives Lydia?”

Derek, stoic as ever, nodded and said, “I trust Stiles to do well. You should too, Scott. All he has to do is stay out of their range. If they come this way, Stiles can send lighting in the directions they move to give us a warning. We'll protect the Pack.”

Scott resigned himself to the sidelines. Erica's eyes seemed full of hope and sinister thought. The rest of the Pack varied between those two extremes.

_Maybe Scott won't want to kill Argents after this is over... but the rest are malleable. Maybe teenagers aren't so bad. Stiles clearly has a bloody streak to him._

Peter said, “Kill them all, Stiles.” Angry glares from Scott and Derek prompted Peter to roll his eyes and sigh, “Or don't, and just rescue Jackson and Lydia. Whichever. When this is all over we can go out for steaks, or something."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did you like it? Comments are always welcome!
> 
> If I haven't driven you off yet, and if you'd like, you can follow me at: arcs-of-light.tumblr.com


	9. Stiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is a hero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No betas, only alpha'd.  
> You may encounter a typo or two. This thing was edited from 3:00 am to 5:30 am, after all.

_Three hours till sunrise. If I don't do this now we'll have to keep one of them alive for a month for Lydia. And they'll turn Jackson in the meantime. Maybe they're not expecting us to do this tonight?_

_If so, it's perfect timing. I have to do this right now._

Stiles felt like the world was against him as he stood there in the living room.

Except for Derek. Derek knew what had to be done. He'd always been like that. A bit reluctant to kill, but knowing what had to be done and then doing it.

Scott and Alan were unhelpful. Erica wanted blood, and she was right to want it, too.

Why shouldn't Stiles go in and blast the crap out of those alphas and their murderous pack?

Stiles resolved not to think about Alan's concerns for the moment. It was three hours till sunrise and Stiles had no idea how, exactly, the alpha camp was set up. All Stiles could see were tiny dark lights on the edge of his vision. They could all be inside steel buildings, or have Jackson locked up in a way that Stiles couldn't get to him.

Small doubts in the current plan bounced around and multiplied inside Stiles's head.

Derek, stoic as ever, nodded to Stiles and said, “I trust Stiles to do well. You should too, Scott. All he has to do is stay out of their range. If they come this way, Stiles can send lighting in the directions they move to give us a warning. We'll protect the Pack.”

And everything was better. Derek trusted him. That's really all it took.

Peter said, “Kill them all, Stiles.” Peter rolled his eyes as Derek and Scott glared at him, “Or don't, and just rescue Jackson and Lydia. Whichever. When this is all over we can go out for steaks, or something.”

Stiles said to Scott, “I'm going to be grounded for a month after this, so I'm not calling my dad or Chris to tell them the plan. Can you do that, Scott? Maybe not about the rescue...”

Scott said, “Sure.”

Alan said, “Good luck. Don't lose yourself.”

Stiles said, “I won't. Oh. I should probably see if I can even pick up two people.”

Alan said, “Good idea.”

 

Five minutes later, Stiles stood outside in the moonlight with Derek, Scott, and Alan waiting for him to shift. Stiles waited for them to turn around and not look. At a pointed look from Stiles, Scott and Alan turned around. Derek smiled and keep right on staring.

Scott said, “Dude. Just do it already. It's like you're scared of your body, or something.”

Erica called out from the house, “Shake it, Stiles!”

Stiles huffed out, “You're all horrible people.”

Derek smiled at Stiles while Stiles glared back. Stiles turned away from Derek to faced the moon and strip. His clothes and the spike on the ground, Stiles flashed white. Scales coalesced from the moonlight. He stretched and flexed out shimmering white wings and whipped his tail around to watch it lengthen with crystallized magic. He relaxed his tail and concentrated on armor.

_Okay. You can do this, Stiles. Just like you practiced in the mirror. Grow the scales on the abs downward so everything isn't just hanging out..._

The opaque white scales grew under his concentration. They formed into armor along his arms, legs, chest, and most importantly, to cover his vulnerable and embarrassing parts. If it wasn't for Derek's ginormous cock and amazing muscles, along with every other damned workout magazine front cover model around here, Stiles probably wouldn't feel so bad about his body.

So yeah, if he made his scales a bit bigger in all the right places, they wouldn't think he was compensating, would they? Not over the crotch, that would be ridiculous, but maybe over the chest...

Moonlight soaked into his scales like the warmth of the sun.

Stiles said, “Isn't moonlight just reflected sunlight? Why aren't werewolves wolfed-out all the time?”

Alan spoke while Stiles stared at the moon, “Magic is a reflection of the desires of an aware person. Moonlight is a reflection of the initial source of all life, the Sun. All magic is stronger on a full moon. Taking these three facts into consideration, we have a working theory as to why moonlight is special. I hope that makes sense for such a short explanation.”

Stiles's scales finished growing. He was technically naked, but he didn't feel naked. Thank god he wasn't going to need to wear a bed sheet all the way there. He doubted that it would remain intact if he needed to channel lightning through himself.

Maybe he should invest in a rubber kilt. Stiles tried to imagine what his father would say if he saw a hundred dollar charge to the local porn-store on Stiles's debit card. He would probably question Stiles's ability to find the free porn online.

Speaking of free porn: It was weird finding out that he had jacked-off to one of Danny's fics that one time. But those were the hazards of digging thought fanfics when you know one of your friends writes the stuff. Stiles couldn't even look at Danny for days afterward. All Stiles could think about was how much sex was in all of Danny's fics. No fluff at all. All sex all the time.

_I should talk to him about his views on Destiel. Wincest is fine, but Cas needs lovin' too._

A flash of light from behind returned his attention to the present. Stiles turned around. Scott and Derek were clicking off pictures with their phones.

Stiles grunted disapproval. It might have come out a bit strong.

Scott said, “Dude. You know you're stopping this when we don't need it anymore. I figured you'd like a picture.”

Stiles glared at Derek.

Derek said, “For reasons.”

Stiles smiled and tried to keep his voice under control, “I'm glad my internet lingo is rubbing off on you, Derek.” Stiles held out his hands, “So. You two want to fly up a few hundred feet, right?”

Scott said, “Umm...”

Stiles said, “We have to! For science!”

Scott said, “You can do this without the electricity, right? That looks like it really hurts.”

“Oh my god. Yes. I can fly without electrocuting you.”

Derek and Scott both reached out. Stiles wrapped his hands in theirs and succeeded in not slicing them with his talons. A small hop and flutter put them a dozen feet into the air.

Stiles tried not to laugh at Scott's rising heartbeat. Derek's reaction was decidedly less worried and much more thrilled. Given a different situation, Scott might enjoy flying. But there were enemies out there waiting to do awful things to the Pack.

_Two and a half hours left. That was plenty of time. Probably._

Scott said, “Back down! Too high!” Scott slapped Stiles's hand, “Let me go!”

“You're _scared_ of heights? Since when is this a thing?”

Derek said, “I want to go higher.”

Stiles let Scott drop the dozen feet to the ground. He landed with a thump, completely fine. Stiles used his free hand to get a better grip on Derek.

Scott dusted himself off, “I'm not scared of heights. I'm calling everyone now. Good luck, Stiles.”

Stiles said to Scott, “Thanks, Scott. I'll be back with Jackson and Lydia by morning,” Stiles said to Derek, “Shall I take you away like a proper dragon stealing a virtuous maiden? Maybe for five or ten minutes, anyway.”

Stiles smiled downward, Derek returned a glare. Derek was much less threatening from this position, but Stiles knew to never say such a horrible thing out loud. He could say a ton of things that _superficially_ _sounded_ like they were making fun of Derek's everything. But to directly make fun, that was a no-no.

Derek said, “This is the last time I let you get away with that line. Now. Pull me up. This is uncomfortable.”

Stiles obliged. With a swing and all the dexterity of a werewolf, Stiles hovered perpendicular to the ground with Derek laying across Stiles's arms and hanging one arm around Stiles's neck.

Derek leaned in and whispered, “You are the sexiest thing I have ever seen. I want to hold onto your tail and fuck you 'til you come.”

Stiles was extra happy he went through the trouble of hiding his tender parts underneath thick scales. Derek knew Stiles loved dirty-talk. That was instant-erection material right there.

Even better than Danny's fanfics.

With a flap and a twist, and Derek clinging on for dear life, Stiles flew away. Before he knew it they were in the sky over the banyan tree to the north of the Hale property. The house dropped out of sight and Derek laughed into Stiles's neck.

Stiles smiled, “You're laughing! It's wonderful.”

Derek said, “How are you even doing this? You're not moving anything unless you're changing location. You're just hovering here.”

Stiles said, “I don't know. It just feels natural to hover. It's like I'm a calm spot of water below the surface of the ocean. I only move when I flap the wings and wiggle the tail. I guess my wings feel really stiff. The tail too. You saw the magnets and scales in Lydia's house. It's probably something along those lines but with the Earth's magnetic field. I feel more stable when I call lighting and those things have huge magnetic influences. And you're just enjoying the sound of my voice, aren't you?”

Derek leaned in and kissed Stiles. They opened their mouths and tasted each other. Stiles hugged Derek closer and fell into the feeling. If the alpha pack wasn't here, if Lydia hadn't died, if they wouldn't've taken Jackson, Stiles would have loved to get fucked by Derek for a few hours this morning. Or any full moon morning. But, the fucking would have to come later.

_Ha. Come later. Oh yes, there will be lots of coming later. I would be telling Derek this right now but his mouth is so nice._

“Oww,” Derek said. “Your talons, Stiles.”

“Oh, fuck.”

Stiles had gripped a bit too tight. The tips of his talons dug into Derek's side and leg. Stiles opened his hands and the talons slipped out. Derek sighed and smiled.

Derek said, “Not enough time to fuck right now. When this is all over and your father hasn't killed me we can go at it however you want,” Derek rapped a knuckle against Stiles's chest scales. It clinked like tapping glass. “You've gotten bigger boobs than me.”

“Your boobs are still the best boobs.”

Derek grinned, “I never thanked you for all those times you saved my life. Like that time you held me up in the pool. Thank you, Stiles. You've been more than an anchor. You've been my salvation. I'm not the same person I was before I met you, and that is a very good thing.”

“You're never like this. Please tell me you're not doing that whole 'tell each other you love each other before the fighting starts' thing, are you? I hate that trope.”

Derek grunted, “Don't be an ass. And we're already doing that, for your information.”

“Oh my god. We are. And you love my ass. All facets of both the physical one and the one that crops up in my speech all the time. You love them all. If I didn't love you, I'd drop you right now for this horrible rendition of one of my most hated tropes.”

Derek smiled, “I love you, too.” Derek reached around with his free arm and rapped a knuckle against Stiles's crotch armor, “But these scales ruin the view.”

“I'm just as hard as these scales. You have no idea how glad I am that I can cover that shit up.”

“I'm exactly aware of how shy you are. You're way too hard on yourself.”

“... I think the subtlety of that joke is a bit too much.”

“... Don't get in their line of fire. They probably have guns, too. Expect the worst.”

“I know. I still have a bit of that connection to Chris. That guy is all about the guns and weapons and the strategy. I'm surprised we're not dead already. He's intense. Maybe he forgot that Peter also killed his nurse and the janitor at the school?”

Derek furrowed his brow, “I completely forgot about them. Chris might have, too.”

“Ah. Well. Don't let that secret out? Allison might not remember the janitor. I don't remember if she saw that one or not. It's not like we really talked about all the dead bodies we've seen. Um. Two hours till sunrise and I still need to cover twenty miles as well as fight the actual fight. They probably have a few tricks I need to be careful of, too. We should go back.”

“Yeah. We should.”

 

Scott just finished the phone call to Chris by the time they made it back to the house. Only fifteen minutes had passed. They touched down beside Alan and Lydia's spike. Derek hopped off and stepped away. Stiles felt oddly proud at the nice look Derek was giving him.

If Stiles stood a bit straighter it was only because he liked the attention Derek was giving him, and not because it felt awesome to be a dragon. He was not going to fall into that same mental trap again.

Scott said, “I talked to Chris and the Sheriff. They're going on high alert. Uh... Your dad was a bit weirded out by the 'look to the skies for lighting that's where the alphas are coming from' thing.”

Stiles said, “Do we really think they'll attack the town when I go out there?”

Alan said, “Would you stick around during a lightning storm or would you go for hostages?”

“Well _I_ would stick around in a lighting storm.”

Alan said, “Keep cracking jokes and you'll be fine.”

Stiles picked up Lydia's spike, “Of course I'll be fine. I have all of you to come back to. Now, before this gets any more saccharine, I need to go get Jackson and Lydia back.” Stiles hopped a foot into the air, “Be safe!”

Stiles flew into the sky. If he stopped to listen to the heartbeats of his pack, how they hitched and pulsed as he flew out of sight, Stiles doubted his ability to keep going. He looked at the prismatic spike in his hand for reassurance. Lydia needed him. Jackson needed him.

Derek would be fine. His father would be fine. Scott and the Pack would be fine.

Two lost members of his Pack needed him and he had the power to help.

So he went.

Did it matter that he might feel slightly good about finally ripping into the alpha pack?

Certainly not. Not in a way that would prevent him from pursuing their deaths, anyway. Like Chris had said: If it helps, they've killed tens of thousands of people.

And that did help. A lot.

_This is too freakin' weird. Peter bit Scott eight months ago and now I'm flying around as a dragon. I'm on a mission to resurrect Lydia Martin, and simultaneously rescue Jackson Whittemore, from a pack of the most powerful werewolves on the planet._

 

Twenty miles through air might as well be ten feet on the ground when flying was as easy as walking. A mile out, with normal sight, the alpha camp was mostly invisible. All the buildings hid beneath camouflage draping and dense trees. No well trodden paths were visible from the sky and no smoke trails gave away camp fires. They must have taken steps to make sure the camp was set up to remain hidden from all forms of casual aerial observance.

While Stiles heard generators and movement, but didn't hear any speech. Looking for were-magic revealed the reasons for the silence. They knew Stiles was coming. Two packs of betas had already started to circle well around Stiles's location. They were silent, but still visible with his arcane sight.

Stiles was still a mile out from the camp but, up here, he was a floating target for any high-powered guns. Stiles dropped below the treetops and remained well away from any of circling bundles of were-magic, and the camp.

_Expect them to have guns. Don't expect any weakness._

_You don't get to be the biggest bad out there by not taking threats seriously. But I should give them a chance to back down, shouldn't I?_

They should all be able to hear him if he yelled. Clouds precipitated in the cloudless sky as Stiles mentally prepared for battle. His voice came out with all the power of a thunderstorm.

“One last chance! Give me Jackson, send Morgan out, and then leave. Never come back!”

The surrounding werewolves sped up their circling maneuvers. They were now halfway around him.

A voice, Demetrio's, responded from the camp, “You would toy with Morgan's emotions? What are you? Some sort of Kate Argent?”

_Why is he talking about Kate? Derek and I have been really good for each other... Hmm... I should not allow those guys to fully encircle me._

Stiles ignored Demetrio and went after the left circling pack. He smelled the mountain ash at the same moment he saw that these werewolves were all betas. Stiles couldn't help his reaction. Out came a laugh like a thunderous roar. He flew over the line before it was completed and easily escaped the trap.

“I'm going to start taking these betas apart if you continue to attempt a trap. Why did you send them on the obvious suicide mission?”

_No. Wait. Not a suicide mission... Demetrio might want me to attack them. Why?_

Stiles skidded the treetops and flew further out. Well away from the sight of the eclipsing packs, Stiles dropped down and looked at the path they tried to turn into a trap. Mountain ash and thick metal cables. The wires had to be rigged to conduct electricity to something. Whatever it was for was not likely something Stiles wanted to contribute to.

Demetrio said, “You didn't attack them? You must be weaker of conviction than I thought.”

“Seriously, Dude. Your taunts are lame. Oh. And watch this.” Lighting arced between the growing clouds. It reached down to just above where Demetrio's voice was coming from. “Perfect control. So either you give up, or I figure out every one of your plans then rip them apart before killing you. Right now, Jackson's intact life is the only thing keeping me from just blasting away. I really hope you haven't attached these cables to him. It costs me nothing to be up here. I can do this all day long. Last chance!”

Demetrio laughed, “You're much more fun than Lydia. Yes: Those cables _are_ set up into Jackson. Strike at us and you'll likely hit him.”

_Figures. Hmm. Only one hour till sunrise... I can't wait for his tricks. Where is the nearest alpha?_

Stiles looked around and didn't react to what he saw. Each alpha of the alpha pack scrambled to surround Stiles in the middle of a very large, and completely encircling, perimeter. Each of them ran as fast as Morgan when he carried Jackson away. They stopped at what had to be their appropriate positions, possibly underneath protective electrical cables. Some of the alpha-sized bundles of were-magic were alone. Most of the betas were between Stiles and the main camp.

There was something odd about what was left inside the camp.

Two strange bundles of magic and a few obvious-betas. One of the odd ones fluctuated. It felt like Jackson. The other odd one looked more Monica-like. It had to be Fred.

Demetrio said, “Are you sure you don't want to join us? Morgan really would love it if you did. She's taken a real liking to you.”

“No thanks. I have a boyfriend. Why don't you go out with her? I saw the video. You're the one she really wants.”

Demetrio said, “This is getting nowhere. Betas! Take down the dragon and get a promotion!”

_Thank you for making the first move. I feel less guilty about this for every move you make._

Lightning skittered across the sky. Clouds burst with rain as the betas circled and advanced. The betas were much slower than the alphas, but they were four times as numerous. They moved like they knew Stiles's exact location. Their senses had to be stronger those in Stiles's Pack to be able to do that.

Stiles kept moving to remain out of sight of any potential snipers.

“Last chance!”

No response.

“Fine.”

_Don't get over confident. He's probably planning on that._

“Stop attacking and leave!”

Stiles circled around to make sure they weren't carrying cables. Some of them were not. Stiles attacked those. A flash of white from the sky left three of them dead and started a fire. More lighting cascaded across the sky as the wind picked up. Rumbles and echos filled the air as rain poured from towering and growing clouds.

It was like playing call of duty on a mode better than god mode.

But the smells of burnt flesh and the vivid yellows of growing fire caused Stiles to flinch. Stiles wanted to stop, he wanted all of this stuff to never have happened, but thinking like that wasn't going to help anyone.

Stiles couldn't visually see his targets, so he aimed through the trees towards their magical signatures.

_Oh my god. I'm a fucking camping sniper. I hate those guys! Or maybe I don't. It's rather effective. I can still hate them and be effective, right? Right._

Demetrio called out, “Plan P!”

Stiles retorted, “What the hell?”

All the surrounding alphas started talking.

“Your dad wouldn't want a murderer for a son,”

“You killed your mom!”

“Derek doesn't love you.”

“Derek is incapable of love.” That one was Morgan.

“You'll never be a part of your pack.”

“You're not a werewolf.”

“You're a monster.”

Stiles instantly latched onto Morgan's voice. He waited directly away from Demetrio in this circle of alphas that thought they had Stiles surrounded. Demetrio spouted some sort of nonsense. Stiles didn't listen. Stiles went straight for Morgan.

Stiles's wings sliced through the treetops like lightsabers. Two seemingly smart betas had latched to the tops of two intervening trees and raised electrical wires to the sky as Stiles came near.

“Annoying wires are annoying!”

Stiles protectively held Lydia's spike as he twirled well away from the waiting betas. They remained alive and ignored, for now.

Forty five minutes til sunrise and Stiles finally saw Morgan straight on. Stiles hovered behind a bushy tree. Morgan waited at the base of a huge pine. No electrical cables were in sight. Morgan was currently male, and neither of them were moving. Morgan had no visible guns and no betas were close enough to cause Stiles concern.

Stiles said, “I should be mad at you. But all I can think of is how bad your life must have been to make you a killer. If you were a psycho, you'd have died by now. You must be a very level-headed person, or just very strong.”

“Both. Most of the time,” Morgan sighed, “You know: I would have treated you very well. That was never a lie.”

“You would have had me kill people.”

“You like killing people. I see it in your eyes. I see it in your actions right now. I also know how horrible it will be for you growing up in a place where everyone will condemn you for your nature. They would have never loved you as fully as I would have... As fully as I do.”

“What made you choose this kind of life?”

Morgan smiled, “Who I was on the outside was not who I was on the inside. So, I dressed how I wanted to dress and acted like I wanted to act. I almost died because people are hateful horrible things. Then, I got the Bite. Then, I got revenge. Everyone in this Pack has a similar story. You could find a real family here. A real Pack.”

The surrounding werewolves had been rushing to Stiles's location, but every one of them stopped well out of visual sight to let Morgan and Stiles talk.

Morgan asked, “Are you going to attack me?”

Stiles replied with a lighting bolt. Morgan groaned and collapsed to the ground. Walls of lighting came down between them and the rest of the suddenly advancing alpha pack. Stiles swooped down and stabbed Morgan in the stomach with Lydia's spike.

The spike disintegrated into prismatic light and soaked into Morgan's charred but living body. Stiles hoped it was something only he could actually see through all the covering lighting, otherwise some of the surrounding werewolves might reveal the deception and make this next part a bit tricky.

The alpha pack roared. Stiles grabbed Morgan by his unresponsive wrist and flew upward. Stiles remained well out of sight and flew into the cover of the treetops.

Stiles said, “I'm taking him away to talk!”

Hopefully the intensity of the situation masked the obvious lie. It must have done something. All of the betas and a few of the alphas flinched back.

Then they stopped altogether. Stiles got away with a living Morgan in his grip.

The betas and Fred at Stiles's next destination hadn't moved this whole time. Fred looked like a less intense Monica to Stiles's magical vision. Stiles hoped he wouldn't be that difficult to deal with.

Morgan, dazed and confused and healing by the second, returned Stiles's grip as Stiles flew towards Jackson.

Morgan groaned as he coughed up words, “You're... taking me away to talk?”

“If you decide to get violent I have no problems channeling a million volts through us.”

“I'm not getting violent. This is the best... view I've ever had... of you.”

Stiles swooped down near Jackson's location, “I'm rescuing Jackson, too.”

“Demetrio won't like... That... ughh-”

Stiles hoped he wasn't too rough with dropping Morgan to the ground. Morgan tried to protest but groaned and roared into the ground instead. Stiles couldn't watch as Morgan's dark were-magic transformed into Lydia's prismatic glow. Whatever Lydia was doing to Morgan was painful beyond the physical.

The alpha pack wouldn't take long to get here once they recognized what was happening. Stiles launched into sight of Jackson.

Metal cables and chemistry sets littered the dozens of tables in the area. A naked, unconscious, unencumbered, and hooked up to a dozen different IV drips Jackson, sat in a large metal cage sitting atop the juncture of a dozen different cables. Three wolfed-out betas charged at Stiles while Fred held back. Fred had some sort of metal rod in one hand and gripped writhing black tentacles in the other.

A tentacle twisted from the ground under Stiles's feet and tried to grip his foot but sizzled away as it touched his scales.

_That's something to ask Alan about, later._

Stiles knocked the betas aside knowing they weren't an issue. But Fred needed to go. Stiles charged forward, separating Fred's head from his body. Rain fell in heavy waves as Stiles hovered towards Jackson. It looked like he had been chained up, but those chains now rested on the nearby ground. Jackson was unconscious, and now that Stiles took a moment to look, covered in slime.

Stiles would have missed the slime if not for the distinctive prismatic glow fluctuating from Jackson's skin and pooling onto the ground.

“Okay. Can't touch him. Um. Take the whole damn cage? Slime is literally fucking everywhere. Oh my god. This is the trick I can't get around, isn't it?”

Stiles flapped up to the top of the cage and grabbed it. It must have weighed a ton or more. The moon was still high in the sky but the sun was almost up. Stiles concentrated and his wings doubled in size. That was all it took.

Stiles lifted the cage, Jackson and all, into the sky.

But he was too slow. The alpha pack had already gotten back to Morgan. Though, with the way Morgan's were-magic was completely gone, Morgan might not exist any longer.

Demetrio roared, “What have you done to Morgan?!”

Prismatic light seeped into the ground from Mogan's position and spread into the nearby trees. A foul odor filled the air seconds before screaming drowned out the sounds of rain. Instinct drove Stiles to get away. With a frantic flap of his wings he was safely upwind from the horror.

When he couldn't smell it anymore Stiles turned to watch. He had flown a few thousand feet. Jackson, flopping around in the cage and still unconscious, produced toxins as fast as the rain washed them away.

The ground shook.

Massive vines toppled over trees and churned the forest floor. Could those things even be thought of as vines? They acted more like kraken tentacles but bigger and more plant-y. Stiles struggled with Jackson to get higher and higher as vines whipped out from the ground below and caught almost all of the betas and two of the alphas.

_Where are the rest? Oh god. They're getting away._

Five of them had dodged the grasping trees and were now rushing toward Beacon Hills. Stiles struggled to fly fast enough but Jackson's cage weighed him down. Stiles thought about setting him down, but Lydia was growing everywhere. Stiles couldn't set Jackson down in a churning pit of death-by-plant.

Stiles called five tendrils of lighting towards the town and kept flying forward.

Below him, Lydia's prismatic energy coalesced into the trunk of a towering silver willow tree in the midst of twisted forest of dead and dying werewolves. Lydia would be fine. She seemed to know what she was doing. Stiles needed to warn the Pack and his father.

“Oh my god, Jackson! Wake up! You're too fucking heavy.”

Jackson's heartbeat lurched. He opened his eyes. Stiles remembered that time at the rave when Jackson was very much a Kanima and his eyes were very much reptilian.

“Oh. Damn...”

Parts of Jackson's skin turned green and scaly. His claws slipped out. Prismatic toxins flung around the cage as Jackson slipped on his own rain-slick slime. Drops of his slime landed onto Stiles's tail. Numbness began to spread upward as Stiles struggled to think.

Jackson tried to crush himself away from Stiles. He hissed as his legs slipped out of the cage.

“You bastard!” then Stiles thought again, “Jackson Whittemore! You stop that right now! Lydia is alive and we're friends. We're Pack!You're my friend, Jackson. Lydia is alive! Or she will be. Probably. Jackson Whittemore!”

Stiles tried to pull on his tiny portion of their pack bond. Jackson's attention shifted. Jackson was aware of his surroundings and knew his name. The slime stopped coming. Heavy rain slowly washed away the remnants. In a moment of venom-free welcome clarity, Jackson looked up at Stiles with shining blue eyes.

Jackson said, “Stiles?”

“Holy crap! You're back! We can't touch the ground right now and I'm going numb.” Stiles sliced open the top of the cage. “Climb up. I'm getting paralyzed over here.”

The numbness was up to Stiles's chest as Stiles reached into the cage. After a brief moment of confusion, Jackson regained his senses and agility. Jackson grabbed hold.

The cage fell to the swallowing and churning trees below. Stiles tried to not feel self conscious about a naked Jackson crawling on top of him. This was much worse than putting Jackson's pants on for him.

Stiles, horizontal to the earth, a few hundred feet into the air above a killer tree that may or may not be aware of itself, himself completely numb, now had Jackson sitting on his back with his legs on either side of his head.

Jackson said, “You said Lydia was alive. Where?”

Paralyzation gripped his whole body. All Stiles could do was speak and move his eyes. Jackson legs moved. He must have leaned over to look downward.

Stiles said, “Right below us. I think she is resurrecting from that willow tree. We can't stay. Five of the alphas are headed towards town. They're attacking right now and I'm completely out of range to help.”

“Lydia is coming back but the Pack and Danny needs us. Have I got that right? How are we hovering like this?”

Stiles said, “Magnetically locked into the earth's magnetic field by using magic to make superconducti-” They tilted forward. Jackson had moved his wings for him and was now holding on for dear life so he didn't slip off, “Move me back! Don't fall! Oh my god. I didn't even know this was my worst nightmare until now.”

Jackson moved around on his rain-slick scales. A faint smell of blood meant Jackson had cut himself. With werewolf strength Jackson slowly moved his wings up, then quickly pushed them down. Stiles reoriented towards the horizontal. Almost as quickly, Jackson wrapped his arms around Stile's neck and his legs around Stiles's waist. At least Jackson wasn't going to fall now.

But Stiles was stuck until the venom wore off.

Now, if only the rain would only stop. The gentle wind wasn't doing much that one good pulse of his wings wouldn't fix, but the constant rain was slowly pushing down with a thousand little taps a second.

Derek would be so mad if he saw Naked Jackson holding Stiles like this.

Stiles's eyes went wide as fear clutched at his heart.

_Derek. The Pack. Dad!_

“What? What's wrong?” Jackson's voice was as frantic as Stiles's heartbeat, “What's happening? You can see them, can't you?”

Far away, Stiles could see, but not distinctly make out, the fight between the Pack, the Hunters, and the alphas. He felt his pack bond grow taut with strength and fear.

Then, from the other side of town, another bundle of magic joined the fight.

It had to be Monica.

“I have to do something. Monica is joining the fight now, too. Okay. What can I do? How are you not terrified of where you are right now?”

“This is not that scary compared to the night I had. I thought I was losing it. Want me to stab you? It should trigger the healing process.”

“Not much, but yes. By the ne- Ow!”

“Yeah. I can see the unprotected spot by your neck. Hey, remember that time you crushed my hand and broke my back?”

“What of it?”

Jackson scratched bloody lines in Stiles's neck. They healed just as fast as they were made.

“This is the first time I've every gotten to repay you for those.”

“Sadistic basta- Ow!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Circumstances ended this part rather oddly. 
> 
> How did you like it? Comments are always welcome!
> 
> If I haven't driven you off yet, and if you'd like, you can follow me at: arcs-of-light.tumblr.com


	10. Derek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek has a normal day.  
> (Or, by anyone else's standards: A horrific series of events)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only alpha'd, no betas. Sorry for typos. I will edit again after i give my eyes a rest.

Derek watched Alan pull various tools from his veterinarian bag while Scott started calling people. Derek ate a cookie as he listened into the conversations, but took no part in them.

Jackson's, Danny's, and Lydia's parents had no idea about the existence of werewolves yesterday, but they did right now thanks to Chris and Jed and the rest of the Hunters in town. Exposure was never a good thing for either side, but they were in the middle of a fight and those people would be used against them if they weren't protected.

What was five more people learning things they shouldn't be learning?

Right now, those five people probably thought the world was going insane, so until the alphas actually attacked, their thoughts would likely remain that way.

Jed, Allison, Chris, Melissa, and a few other doctors and nurses from the hospital had turned the police station into both a headquarters and a field hospital in the two hours since they learned the fight began. The Whittemores, the Martins, and Mrs. Mahealani were likely in protective custody in the cells, and angry about every minute of it.

Scott was furious at his Mother's decision to remain with the Hunters. How could Scott protect her if she wasn't near him?

Derek didn't have to remind Scott that his mother's proximity is what had already turned her into a tool for the enemy twice over. Melissa did that reminding for herself, but in much kinder words than what Derek would have used.

Derek felt it when Stiles started fighting. Scott did too. The entire pack turned restless and the sky darkened over the forest. They rushed out of the house just in time to hear the first distant booms of thunder rolling across the trees.

Stiles's pack bond grew taut from battle. Derek had to get a better view. He clawed up the side of the house to perch on the roof. Scott joined him. They waited with claws out and eyes glowing red.

They could only see forest, lighting, and rain from up here, but it was better than waiting inside.

The rest of the Pack joined them on the roof without prompting. Alan remained inside and prepared to defend himself, if needed. More thunder echoed across the chasm of the sky. Clouds piled high into the air as the minutes ticked away.

In an hour, the clouds had expanded all the way to the house and beyond. Curtains of water to the west fell in stark contrast to the bright day coming from the east.

 

A shock wave reverberated across the land. Then came five telling bolts of lighting.

Scott said, “They're coming.”

Derek said, “This is it.”

Scott said, “Stiles is still alive... But he's not coming this way?”

Derek said, “He's fine. Worry about us right now.”

Scott said, “I can feel him just floating there? Why isn't he moving?”

Derek wolfed-out and listened. He heard crashing through the underbrush seconds before they appeared at the edge of the surrounding forest. Mark, Demetrio, John, and two unknown women that looked like twins. One blond, the other dark haired.

They prowled. Their eyes mostly bright red spots in the vanishing night.

But Demetrio's eyes glowed a red so dark it was nearly black. Two huge fangs protruded from the corners of a mouth as wide as his face.

Derek said, “Don't go. If they could, they'd attack by now. It looks like we're safe behind Lydia's roses.”

Demetrio called out, “Erica! Boyd! You're with us now!”

Derek felt it before he saw it. Erica and Boyd's pack-bond frayed and snapped. Their faces contorted in pain as the air rippled around them. A pulse of darkness sent them flying from the rooftop. Werewolf agility saved them from breaking anything as they hit and rolled across the ground.

Erica was the first to speak, “Looks like the ruse is over.”

Scott said, “What the hell?”

Boyd grunted, “ _Finally_.”

Mark said, “If you think this is rough, just wait until we force you to kill your families. You actually managed to make Demetrio mad. I can already see the good times coming.”

Demetrio said, “That's enough secrets. We can't have them guess what we're going to do next, can we?”

Mark shrugged. Erica and Boyd ran to Demetrio's side.

Erica said, “They're at the police station.”

Boyd said, “Every hunter is there, too.”

Demetrio's fangs vanished. He grinned at Derek as Erica and Boyd fell into line beside him. Erica moved under his right arm and Boyd under his left. Demetrio hugged them close, released them, then moved back into the darkness of the forest. The other four alphas followed.

Isaac said, “What just happened?”

Derek had no answers. Peter seemed to be in the middle of a mental crisis. His normal demeanor was gone, replaced with something a bit more frantic with worry.

Peter said, “If I was an alpha, they couldn't have done anything to me. Dammit! But is that even true? Would an Alpha even be safe? I don't know any more.”

Scott said, “I need answers. Peter?”

“I know I told you this before. Didn't I? Alphas can impart memories into people. Remember when I showed you my memories that one time at your locker-room? When I grabbed your neck? When I punctured the skin near the base of your skull with my alpha claws? That's the most direct way to do it. It's part of what I did to Lydia in order to resurrect myself. Memory magic is a major part of Lydia's backup plan. A skilled alpha can even take memories away.”

Scott said, “Is that what they did to Boyd and Erica?”

“Yes. They probably wiped Erica and Boyd clean and started over from scratch,” Peter paused, “It makes sense. They had enough time to do it. Suck everything out of them on that very first day that Boyd and Erica tried to run away. They had already separated from the pack-bond. No one would be able to tell the difference once they came back into the fold.”

Peter always knew more than he was willing to share, but this time he had gone too far. If Peter knew this was a possibility, why didn't he say anything? Derek had no idea how to respond to this gross violation of trust.

Derek said, “You can't take memories away. You can only show them to people.”

Peter said, “You're wrong. Yet again.”

Derek said, “Why didn't I know this? Why didn't you tell me this was a possibility?”

Peter said, “There's the rub. I... I thought I did tell you. Numerous times. You chose to ignore me. I stopped trying to tell you after the third time. I kept a lookout for discrepancies myself, but I never saw any.”

Derek yelled, “I would have never ignored this!”

Peter said, “Yes. That makes logical sense, doesn't it? We would have all been on the lookout for these sorts of logical discrepancies, like the one I'm having right now, if I had told anyone about this possibility. Which is why I told everyone. A week after this all started. I remember telling you, Derek. And you too, Scott. After you became an alpha. You ignored me. Everyone ignored me. Obviously, I see now that my memories have been altered. At least twice. Probably more.”

Peter sat down on the roof and put his hands over his face.

Derek felt sick. Peter's cunning was Peter's best quality. All signs pointed to Peter's memories being compromised. Or, it could be another one of Peter's tricks. Derek hated himself for not being a better alpha.

If he was a better alpha, none of this could have happened. He would have talked to Peter like an alpha should have, with caring and understanding and trust. He would have noticed the signs of memory alteration. He would have known that an alpha could remove memories, too.

He would have talked to his Pack like an Alpha should, and his Pack would have fallen in line.

But trust wasn't something Derek could do. Three fantastic months with Stiles, but they still couldn't watch a sad movie together.

This was just another mark on Derek's lost list of failures as both an alpha, and as a person.

It was infuriating.

Isaac interrupted Derek's building rage, “Are Erica and Boyd... Gone?”

Peter said, “They were taken in, changed, and spit right back out into their bodies. You could call them alive, and you might be right, but I say they've been dead since the beginning.”

Isaac said, “Why?”

Isaac's simple question caused Peter to laugh. Derek didn't get the joke.

Danny said, “How would any of us know if we've been messed with?”

Scott said, “Dammit! We don't have time for this! We have to save our parents and the hunters.”

Derek yelled, “They're on their own! If we leave this area they will kill us.”

Scott said, “If your mother was alive, would you do everything you could to save her?”

Danny hopped off the roof and dashed inside before anyone knew what he was doing. There were no signs of the alpha pack lying in wait for someone to leave the protection of the house. Maybe they were waiting for more than just one person.

Relief washed over Derek as Danny made it through the front door and back into the barrier without an issue. At least Danny hadn't been turned against the Pack.

_Yet. Maybe he's just another sleeper agent. I can't trust anyone, can I?_

Scott asked again, “Would you try to save your mom if you could?”

Derek said, “Shut up, Scott. You were ready to forgive Allison. To trust an Argent to not lump you in with all the other werewolves out there. I did that once and you know how that ended. If you go out there and try to save them you'll get gunned down like an animal. Or the alphas will just turn around and come right back after us, instead.”

Scott growled at him. Derek growled right back. Derek knew that Scott had a good heart, but he had no brain to back it up. When too many things started happening at once Scott always dropped the ball on something.

_Like I'm any better. I can't trust anyone because they're all idiots. I can't even trust myself because I fail at everything._

_Why aren't you back yet, Stiles?_

Peter added, “They at least need to know that Boyd and Erica are traitors. Would you like to call your mother, or should I, Scott?”

Scott's focus on Derek shattered. Derek would have to thank Peter for that, later. Scott got out his phone and called Chris.

Isaac asked Peter, “Can you do to a normal human what they did to Boyd and Erica?”

Peter said, “I don't know. Probably. I was able to work Lydia over rather well, even if that was a bit different. They've been around for a very long time. I have no doubt that Demetrio knows everything there is to know about being an alpha.”

Derek listened to the conversation happening in the house.

Danny said to Alan, “Is there a way to know if our memories have been altered?”

Alan didn't reply for a while, “What?”

“You saw Boyd and Erica defect, right? Peter was talking like the alphas could alter memories. Is that true?”

“I'm not sure what you're referring to. If that were possible I would have known about it.”

Derek hopped off of the roof. He waited at the front door for something to happen. When nothing did, he motioned the rest to come back down. Scott finished his phone call and reluctantly hopped down to go inside. Peter and Isaac went willingly. Derek shut the door behind them.

Alan sat on the living room couch with his hands on his face. Derek saw wrath building in Danny's posture as Danny's eyes began to shine with blue moonlight.

_Did they get to Alan too? Obviously, yes. They probably got to everyone. Multiple times._

_I really can't trust anyone anymore, can I?_

Like ice just below his skin, a sick realization struck Derek with worry. Jackson and Stiles's pack bond felt like they were on top of each other, and the alpha pack had already had Jackson to themselves for half a day...

_Stiles isn't back because Jackson did something to him._

_But Stiles is still alive. That's something to hope for._

Danny yelled, “Is there a way to reverse it, or prevent it? How would a person know if their memories have been altered?”

Alan said, “Sorry. You've made me realize: They used their abilities on me. I don't know what they took. I don't know how to reverse it, or if that is even possible.” Alan sighed, “And that's the problem, isn't it? I should have been aware of this possibility, and I should have warned you all, but obviously, I did not do that.” Alan's face scrunched in concentration, “I've just received telepathic authorization to use whatever force is necessary.”

Danny said, “So we're going then?”

Should they go? It was a question Derek had already decided against. What could they even do to assist hunters that would just as soon shoot them as they would shoot the alpha pack? But if Alan was directly assisting...

_That might make a difference._

Derek said, “What can you do, Alan? I'm not taking us into a fight with two enemies.”

Alan said, “Now that I have authorization: I can keep the bullets off of you.”

Peter said, “That would do it.”

Alan picked up a long plain wooden staff amongst the materials he had set out. He reached into his veterinarian bag and pulled out something circular, wrapped in paper. The paper came off. It was a ring of wood about seven inches across. He slipped the wooden bracelet over his right hand and dumped out a small bag of plain silver stones into the same hand.

A flash of white filled the room. Alan held out the newly engraved stones to the Pack. Everyone took one.

Alan said, “Just put it in a pocket. They'll deflect most projectiles and last for a day. Less, if you're under constant fire. Monica is fighting now, too. She probably did the same thing for the alphas. I'm driving. You can either ride with me in the protection of the car, or run.”

Scott said, “In the car.”

 

Derek and Scott held onto the roof rack of Alan's station wagon. Peter, Danny, and Isaac rode inside. A gentle white sheen rose into the air from the outer edges of the car as Alan took to the road with all the speed of a race car driver.

Derek brushed his hand against his pocket to feel the small bulge of the tiny silvery stone that Alan had given him. Imprinted with a warding eye, Derek hoped it was enough to stop multiple bullets.

_Please, let these things work. I can trust Alan that much, can't I? He's always been evasive, but genuine._

The sounds of gunfire and explosions filled the air as they neared the station. Smoke billowed into the sky from unseen fires. Derek was relieved that it wasn't silent. At least they were still alive and fighting.

After turning the corner to the police station, Derek's tenuous outlook broke. Something was very wrong.

 

The sun peeked out of dissipating clouds as the smell of blood and the sounds of screams filled the air. Alan stopped the car a few hundred feet away from the station, and well away from what was going to be a problem.

Makeshift wooden barriers laid strewn all across the street. Several police cruisers were on fire. Some cruises had been ripped apart as though they had exploded. The glass and metal doors to the police station had been broken and torn apart. The station's windows were holes of broken glass. Lights flickered inside as gunfire echoed out into the street.

The intervals between the gunfire turned random, the time between shots growing longer as the moments ticked away.

Then the gunfire stopped.

Several hunters stood dozens of feet outside the station, some all the way on the other side of the street. They waited peacefully. As if just standing there, while everyone else was fighting a hundred feet away, was the proper thing to do. Their guns laid on the ground. They didn't respond to anything.

Derek saw puncture marks on their necks and Bite marks beneath torn clothes.

_The alphas are building their pack by biting and brainwashing the hunters._

Derek felt it as this same realization dawned across his Pack. Each of them were furious, but Danny's reaction was the strongest. As the white sheen protecting the car vanished, rage spilled out from Danny. Danny leapt out of the vehicle with his talons out and his eyes like blue moons.

Derek and his Pack roared their challenges into the sky.

The car lurched into the air as huge shadowy vines spilled out of surrounding darkness and wrapped around the metal cage. Alan, Isaac, and Peter abandoned the station wagon seconds before it crushed in half. More shadow vines crawled out of the ground and attempted to wrap around Derek and Scott.

A pulse of white from Alan evaporated the vines and illuminated a shadow who's existence Derek didn't notice until now. As the shadows peeled away, Monica stood before them. She smiled before vanishing into another invisible shadow cloud.

Alan yelled, “Go to the station! You can't fight her.”

Derek moved and the pack followed. Monica's laughs echoed in the air. Derek heard talking coming from inside.

Jed said, “Where'd they go?”

Derek, Scott, and Peter stopped advancing. Danny kept moving forward. Five yards from the broken glass and bent steel entrance, the alpha pack attacked.

A blond woman jumped from the roof and sliced through the air towards Danny. Mark and John came speeding around the corner of the police station and charged Scott and Derek. A dark-haired woman leapt from the roof and dashed at Peter. Boyd and Erica leapt down last. They went for Issac.

Their training kicked in. Issac and Peter kept their targets busy, but did not fight. Scott slashed and parried and kept Mark occupied. John and Derek circled each other as they waited for the other one to make the first move.

But Derek had a plan he had shared with no one. The alphas were arrogant fools. They would never expect Danny to take the lead in the fight. At least Derek could still trust one thing, Danny would never lose to anyone as soon as he fully embraced his ability.

Danny could snip through solid steel like it was paper, after all.

Danny became rage incarnate while everyone else parried and held their alphas off. Danny's human side evaporated as his years of martial art training and his strange werewolf came out to fight. The blond alpha should have been ready for that, but she wasn't.

She tried to attack Danny.

Danny sliced off her hands, then her head.

Danny stood over the blond woman's body and roared into the sky.

Like a blood moon rising, Derek's vision turned red and violent. He rode the wave of power emanating from Danny and attacked John. Derek dove at John and ripped the alpha apart. Mark died just as fast to an enraged Scott. All they had to do was look at Boyd and Erica to scare them away.

Isaac had evaded Erica and Boyd the whole time. He didn't have a scratch on him. Training together paid off well, in that regard.

But Peter laid on the ground with his intestines falling out from a gaping wound across his belly. Peter's black haired assailant ran off as Scott and Derek charged her.

The entranced hunters ran away, following the black-haired woman's lead.

Derek smelled Monica's blood in the air, but her body was not in sight. Alan, bleeding from cuts on his face and arms, leaned against his car.

Demetrio never showed.

As Danny lost sight of potential targets his rage abated. The calm afterward was just as deep as the anger beforehand.

Derek knelt down over Peter and helped push his intestines back into his body. Bile and blood was everywhere, but Peter's intestines looked and smelled intact.

All Derek could think about was the hope that Peter could survive this. Normal people had survived this before. There is no reason why Peter couldn't survive this now. Derek didn't even like Peter. But Peter was still family.

Isaac laid his hands on Peter's arms. His veins turned black as the pain pulled out of Peter.

Peter coughed, “It's just pain, Isaac. You're not actually helping... But... Thank you.”

Isaac said, “Is it over?”

Derek said, “They got away and we haven't even seen Demetrio. This won't be over till they're all dead. But we can't follow them. They'd expect that.” Scott took a step towards the station but Derek yelled at him before he got very far, “Don't go in. Let them come out. They're still hunters, Scott!”

Demetrio's voice came from behind a building, “When I kill you, you won't even see it coming.”

Everyone went still and silent as they waited for something to happen. All Derek heard was the sound of someone running away. Derek turned his attention back to Peter. Peter coughed. He was healing. Black blood filled with dirt and pebbles leaked out from Peter's open gut. But he was healing.

Derek stood up to better listen to the noises inside the station. He heard lots of heartbeats and heavy breathing. The people inside were still alive.

 

Scott called out to them, “Are you guys alright in there?”

Someone responded, “Shit! They're still here!”

Chris said, “I didn't hear. What did they say?”

Jed said, “They asked if we were alright in here.”

Allison said, “It's a trap.”

Chris said, “I agree.”

Scott said, “It's us! We drove them off!”

Scott grunted and walked towards the broken and twisted doors to the station. Derek and Isaac concentrated on Peter. Danny gazed into the sky. His eyes shone like two blood moons. Danny sniffed the air and did a few experimental hops on his toes. Danny propelled himself with surprising strength from the ground to the station's roof.

_I hope he's going to be okay. He's remarkably calm for just becoming an alpha. I'm surprised that even surprises me. Of course he would be okay. That's just who he is._

Danny whispered so only his Pack could hear, “My mom's alright... But... I can't face her right now. I'll keep a watch out.”

Derek nodded and whispered back, “Okay.”

Scott crossed the threshold to the station and stepped into gunfire. Scott stood bewildered for half a second as the bullets deflected off of an invisible barrier. He dove out of the way and back outside as fast as he could.

Scott yelled, “What the hell!”

A grenade landed beside him. Scott ran in the other direction. It exploded in a cloud of blue and fire. The choking smell of wolfsbane filled the air. The blue dust in the air should have injured them, but three alphas in a pack must have offered a bit of protection from the effects of wolfsbane.

Derek grabbed Peter and ran across the street to duck behind a building. Isaac followed. Danny dodged gunfire as he leapt off the roof and circled around to meet back up with Derek. Scott ran to Alan on the hidden side of the station-wagon and used the twisted hunk of metal for cover.

From his vantage point across the street and behind the edge of a building, Derek watched the station.

Chris, Jed, and Allison moved to the front room. They wore gasmasks. Small trails of blood trickled from puncture wounds on their necks.

Scott yelled out, “Mister Argent! Sheriff Stilinski! Allison! It's us! Stop firing!”

Allison said, “We have them on the run.”

Derek heard more voices from inside the station.

Melissa said, “Demetrio has to be okay, doesn't he? He can win this, right?”

An unknown person said, “Your son will be fine. The alpha pack is on the run. They won't last the day.”

Allison gasped as she saw the blond alpha's body, “They killed Julia.” Allison moved to the doors of the station, “And Mark. And John.”

Jed choked on the words, “Mark... My Son... No...”

Jed stopped short of the entrance. Chris followed.

Chris said, “They're still out there. We can't move yet, Sheriff.”

Jed yelled, “Goddammit. I know! Fuck. I promised to take care of him. His mother would be so angry... I should have done something. What could I have done?”

Chris said, “Live to fight another day.”

Chris lobbed a grenade at Alan's car.

Derek yelled, “Scott! Grenade!”

Scott grabbed Alan and ran as the grenade went off behind them. The station wagon blew apart as Scott dashed behind the corner of a different building.

Scott yelled, “Retreat!”

Danny said, “If we chase Demetrio we'd probably be running into another trap.”

Isaac asked, “Where are we going, then?”

Peter spat up, “They'd expect... our house.”

Derek said, “Alan's house, then.”

Peter said, “Goo- Good choice.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you enjoyed the mind screw.  
> And now: I can add a tag to that effect in the summary.  
> The end is coming. Maybe 4 more chapters? IDK.
> 
> I LOVE COMMENTS. Especially the critical (read: helpful) kind.
> 
> If I haven't driven you off yet, and if you'd like, you can follow me at: arcs-of-light.tumblr.com


	11. Lydia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surreal time with Lydia.  
> Then, stuff gets real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of surreal stuff up in here. If it is confusing, please let me know in the comments.

 Lydia felt dimly aware of how her initial plan and her secondary plan both failed.

Then there was some sort of magic flowing through her, but she could neither control nor influence the flowing spells. It looked familiar. It could have been Monica's magic.

Then the dark magic stopped flowing. Lydia saw that she was exactly where she thought she was.

_This was supposed to be a transitory state. Obviously, something went wrong._

Lydia floated in an expansive white room. If there were walls, they were too far away for her to see. Her memories floated around her like prismatic strings of light. It was beautiful, but worrisome. Lydia wondered if she was going to stay here forever.

It was just like how Peter described it, but different. For him, memories were dark strings with most of the older ones burned away. Only the newer ones were thick and whole and complete.

Peter didn't know what Lydia's transition would look like. The white void was a bit disconcerting. But the prismatic strings were pretty to look at. At least she had her memories to keep her company.

Whole and unbroke-

_Wait. Is that a break?_

It was a tiny break in the string, and as Lydia concentrated on it, it rushed towards her.

 

Lydia hovered outside of herself and watched as a memory played out before her.

Memory-Lydia walked along a small trail in the indistinct forests behind her house. A leash in her hands trailed down to a small blank spot in space. The blank spot and Memory-Lydia paused beside a tree.

Memory-Lydia cooed, “Good job, SSSSS! Good poopies!”

_Did I have a dog I was unaware of? No. Impossible._

The blank spot tried to dash off but Memory-Lydia held tight to the leash.

“SSSSS! Behave!” Memory-Lydia paused. With a worried look on her face she called out into the forest, “Who's there? I know someone's out there!”

A large blank spot stepped out from behind a tree.

Everything went white.

When the memory came back, Memory-Lydia was alone as she walked back into the house. No pet-like blank spot accompanied her. She held no leash in her hands.

 

Lydia hovered in the white space of her prismatic memories.

_I had a dog?_

The prismatic string floated in front of her. She surveyed the length of light floating into the past and found many more small spaces of missing memories. At a view, all of them were pet-like blank spots.

_That would explain my predilection of walking through the forest at odd hours of the day and night. A dog needed to be walked. I bet if I was corporeal, I would have a headache right about now._

_Why just the dog, though?_

_They wanted it for something, or it pissed them off. A dog might have been able to smell or hear them if they were sneaking about. Maybe they didn't like that?_

_That theory seems weak. I've seen Jackson cowl a dog with a glance._

_I know they want Jackson. Jackson has been around my house a lot. I had a dog. I am immune to toxins and Jackson's Kanima venom. Kanimas don't die._

_I'd say they wanted to explore Jackson's not-dying, but then: Why the dog?_

_I'm missing something._

_Jackson didn't react normally to the Bite. Neither did Danny. And I'm immune to the Bite and toxins, or at least I was. Stiles is a chimera, but that might just be due to his particular magic and the fact that the Pack is full of oddities. So I'll discount Stiles for now. Maybe I should discount myself since I have a particular brand of magic, too._

_But Danny is still on the table for discussion._

_Why is Danny odd?_

_He fully expected himself to be a normal werewolf._

_Was he contaminated? By Jackson?_

_Jackson had a habit of attacking people with poison. Danny was one of those people. Did that change Danny? I'm going to go with yes, and see where that gets me._

_So Kanimas change people. Mutate them, even._

_The alpha pack wants mutant werewolves out there? If all they normally encounter is the same sorts of werewolves over and over again, they might desire some variety._

_They're already ageless, so I doubt they're here because Jackson auto-revives as a Kanima. So different enemies is probably their goal._

_Why take the dog then?_

_Maybe the mutative effect needs more than casual exposure? Danny has had prolonged contact with Jackson before he got the bite. If I had a dog, the dog would have had that as well._

_They took my dog to experiment on him?_

_That seems wrong._

 

Time went on. Nothing really changed so Lydia looked at the rest of her memories. After making sure that nothing else had been taken, and after growing bored of her own private sexual highlight reel, she pondered something else.

_Why was I immune to the Bite? Why was I immune to all the plant toxins that I grew?_

_Danny's werewolf is just like him, but more supernatural. Maybe Jackson mutated me in the same sort of way. Maybe my immunity is a result of Jackson's presence combined with my own forceful personality that rejects everything that I don't like._

_But, if the magic was always there, maybe I was the one that changed Jackson? I wanted, just as much, even, for Jackson to be as perfect as he himself desired. I've also been around Danny a lot._

_Which came first? My immunity, or Jackson's Kanima?_

_Jackson became the Kanima after I was already attacked by Peter. My immunity prevented me from turning and also let me perform the ritual to resurrect Peter._

_So in that case, I came first._

_But... Wait._

_Jackson was exposed to werewolves long before Peter attacked me._

_Jackson told me about his first exposure when I talked to him about_ my _hallucinations. Derek accosted him in the hallways of school one day. Derek ended up puncturing him on the neck while Derek was afflicted with wolfsbane._

_The reason wolfsbane is so bad for werewolves is not really the aconite. Werewolves can actually shrug off normal aconite poisoning just fine whereas a human would die from the same dosage. It's the wolfsbane itself that is the poison. The soul-like imprint of wolfsbane on reality interacts with a werewolf's inner magic to force that inner magic to a corporeal state. Once it is made manifest it can no longer be used to heal injury and it also begins to degrade the body from the inside out. The two-fold dilemma of wolfsbane makes inner-magic very deadly to its werewolf host._

_Hmm... 'Host' isn't the right word, but I can't think of a better word. Anyway-_

_Maybe, when Derek's inner magic was manifested so near the surface, he didn't need the wound to be very deep. Hallucinations are not a symptom of aconite poisoning. But they are a symptom of werewolf poisoning and memory transfer._

_But only alphas can transfer memories properly. Why would Jackson hallucinate scaled hands coming out of his mouth unless they were a prelude to the Kanima?_

_Was Derek a Kanima?_

… _I have no idea._

_Back to Jackson: Maybe Kanimas just take a really long time to 'hatch'. Whatever the reason for Jackson's Kanima, I bet his transformation started way back then._

_If proximity is more important than the actual venom, maybe Jackson was already putting out mutating waves back then. Magic builds. Once a seed of magic it planted, it never stops growing unless you destroy it from the source. This would put the reasons for my immunity squarely on Jackson's shoulders._

_...Gah! This place is too confining. I need more data points._

_Damn you, Morgan! I couldn't even get one tiny scratch on you, could I? Stupid super-fast alpha werewolves._

 

Lydia's focus returned to the breaks in her memory.

_All they took were the memories of a single dog. Why a dog? Maybe they weren't experimenting on the dog at all._

_Maybe they were experimenting on me._

_I want my memories back_ and _I want all of theirs._

_How would I do that?_

 

The white void fractured into a hundred colors of red. Her spell was working again.

Lydia stretched out and felt the confines of a new body full of memories and secrets ripe for the picking.

So she took them.

 

When the carnage ended and a million new secrets occupied Lydia's mind, she stopped consciously growing.

Several things became apparent:

Most of the betas she had consumed were not complete people. They were approximations of living beings concocted to make life easier for the alphas. Their memories were partial strings of loyalty, military knowledge, and very little free-will, all pieced together by Demetrio in order to construct the perfect soldier. If an alpha ordered them to do something, they would comply without hesitation or regard for their own safety. Two of them were real people, though. Those people were the ones lined up to take the alpha power from Derek and Scott.

A full alpha pack was twelve. They only had eleven when they came to Beacon Hills.

_Where did the 11 th go?_

Morgan was now dead. All of Morgan's memories were now Lydia's.

Another alpha that had been caught in Lydia's growth was named Gertrude. Her memories, of fighting and living in the snowy mountains, were also now Lydia's.

Each alpha kept within them the whole of the alpha pack. Like external hard drives, Morgan or Gertrude, or any of them, were able to resurrect the entire pack all on her own if the need arose. All Morgan would need were werewolves, anyone would do since the original bodies were superfluous, her stored memories, and a willing mage to perform a similar ritual to the one that Lydia had done to Peter. They developed this tactic to both combat the dangers of battle, and stave off aging.

Dying to the fickle whims of battle was more of a setback than an effective end for the alpha pack. If one survived, they all survived.

Souls and memories were interchangeable if a person was a werewolf.

_That's a confusing thing to wrap my head around._

_Oh damn... The Hales lost a lot more than just their alpha in that fire. They lost the souls and memories of generations of people. That's awful._

Demetrio's plan was to spread Jackson's mutation process across Beacon Hills, then each member of the alpha pack would resurrect into one of those bodies. Being mutable, the bodies would respond to the desires and personality of the alpha pack members inside of them.

Some of them would get their original forms back. Several of them wanted more than that. If Lydia, Danny, and Stiles were any indication of the possibilities, they would get exactly what they wanted.

Those new bodies would also be immortal and self-resurrecting, just like Jackson's Kanima.

 

She found the missing fragments of her own memories hidden in the depths of Morgan's mind. Amongst those floating prismatic strings were memories from the rest of the Pack.

_My dogs name... was Prada!_

_Oh my god! Prada! How could I have forgotten about you?_

_They_ were _experimenting on_ me _. Not on Prada. When they stole my memories I took over the body of one of their alphas. They had to find her a new body after I corrupted and destroyed that one._

_That's what happened to the 11 th alpha. I accidentally killed him._

_That's why they never approached me in person like they did the others. They were afraid of contamination by unknown magic. That's why I'm not finding any memories from Danny, or Jackson, or Stiles in here. As a precaution against possible contamination: They never dared to take any memories from any of them._

_But everyone else had a few encounters or events that the alphas didn't want them to know about._

_Peter had false memories planted in him. He thought he told us that the alphas could take memories away._

_Alan had all of his knowledge of an alpha's ability to influence memories erased._

_Peter never told me about the extent of the alpha pack's powers, but he thought he did. That's nice of him. He's not that bad of a guy, just kinda ruthless. I respect that._

_Boyd and Erica were completely worked over._

_Interesting._

 

Lydia packaged those memories that were not her own into imaginary boxes. She didn't want them. They were a contamination to her psyche and would probably cause her to hallucinate again.

As those dark strings flew away from her grip, she felt lighter and more like herself.

The magic continued.

 

Lydia felt wonderfully comfortable inside of all of her blankets. It was a cold day outside, but someone kept yelling at her. Why were they yelling at her?

Realization snapped Lydia from her daydream.

Darkness pressed in around her. She was still in the middle of her spell, but it was too comfortable. If she stayed any longer, she wouldn't want to leave.

That was not acceptable. She wanted her body back.

She couldn't see her hands, but she stretched them out anyway and felt something like paper separating her from everything else. She clawed at it with her dull fingernails. A crack developed. Lydia scraped and pushed and broke the walls separating her from the world outside.

Lydia stepped out into the light of a new day and onto the huge and twisted trunk of a giant willow tree. Huge silver willow tree branches, dozens of feet long, hung down in all directions. The sun peeked out over the horizon in front of her. She stretched and it felt good to have her body back.

She was naked, and a good hundred feet from the ground, but she was alive and the tree trunk was wide enough to feel stable. The sun and wind greeted her arrival with warmth and power. She breathed deep. Everything felt wonderful.

At a thought, she pulled with her magic and the tree responded.

Railings and a staircase made of branches grew down the length of the willow trunk to the ground far below. The cascading silver branches from above parted for a clear view of the surrounding forest, and the sunrise. She took a step forward.

Lydia paused to look again out over a seemingly endless forest.

“Dammit. Am I all the way at the alpha camp? How am I going to get back?”

 

Stiles's voice came from above, “Lydia!”

Jackson echoed, “Lydia!”

Lydia looked up. Swaying willow branches blocked Stiles's and Jackson's possible location somewhere in the sky above. Lydia walked down the willow staircase to get a better look. She would have missed Stiles, floating against a cloudy white sky, if not for the glinting of his scales. If Lydia was a good hundred feet from the forest floor, they must have been about five hundred feet above the ground.

Stiles said, “Oh hey. I guess it's just naked day, then.”

Jackson said, “Stop looking at my girlfriend.”

“I can't help it, Jackass. I'm paralyzed. Which is all your fault, I might add. They must have suped up your toxins because I should have been able to move my arms by now.”

Lydia stopped caring about her nudity, “What is happening right now, Stiles?”

Stiles said, “ _Oh my god. Jackson._ You do not have a hardon right now, do you? That is not fucking cool.”

Lydia said, “Focus, Stiles! I don't need the events from when I was dead. What is happening right now?”

“Danny, Scott, and Derek each killed an alpha. I lost Boyd and Erica's pack connection a while ago. The Pack is all at Alan's house right now. Demetrio and another alpha are at Monica's house right now with a small contingent of proto-werewolves. Um. They did something to our parents. I don't think they bit them, but I see influences on them that weren't there before.”

Lydia said, “They brainwashed them. Demetrio replaced the memories of us with memories of his pack members. They think we're the alpha pack, now.”

Stiles balked, “What?”

“Believe it, Stiles. That move was Demetrio's second-to-last ditch effort so that we would waste time trying to save them while Demetrio resurrects his pack. If we were to go after and trap Demetrio instead of trying to confront and save our parents, he would move onto his last plan. He's holding them hostage in his mind, and he would tell us as much.”

Stiles's voice strained, “I don't understand you. You look like Lydia, but you're a dozen times brighter than she was. Lydia was not as strong as you obviously are.”

“Says the dragon.” Lydia smiled and suppressed a happy laugh, “I just had a feast of memories. I know everything that they knew, and everything that they were going to do. I wasn't going to keep them inside of me, so their memories are mostly locked in this tree now. They shouldn't cause us anymore trouble. We need our parent's bodies and we need Demetrio intact. If we have those two things, we can probably reverse Demetrio's brainwashing.”

Stiles said, “Start from the beginning, please. What's this about memories?”

 

A cursory explanation of an alpha's ability to draw in memories and spit them back into a person, an explanation of why Boyd and Erica were no longer Pack, and Lydia's hypothesis that the Sheriff might not even know who Stiles was anymore, had Stiles vomiting and Jackson trying to comfort him.

 

Lydia asked, “How paralyzed are you, Stiles?”

Stiles said, “I can wiggle my fingers. But. Everyone in town looks separate right now. No one is fighting, or making a move to fight. I think we have time. Jackson stabbing me doesn't seem to help the healing process.”

Jackson said, “I can start again.”

Stiles said, “No thank you, sadistic bastard. At least you got over seeing Lydia naked. It's one thing to hear and smell sex from rooms away. But you having a... _reaction_ as you're on top of me... Entirely too much.” Jackson stood up on Stiles's back. Stiles started talking a bit louder, “What are you doing now?”

Jackson jumped up and landed securely on Stiles's back. Stiles descended a yard down while Jackson remained upright and in control. Lydia laughed. Jackson prepared to do it again.

Stiles said, “Stop that! I will not have you falling and spearing on a tree, or worse! It looks dangerous down there.”

Jackson said, “I'm not going to fall. Quiet.”

Lydia said, “Just hold on a minute.”

Lydia lifted her hand and directed a vine upward. A thick green vine grew through the air towards Stiles.

Stiles saw the vine, “Wait! No! Stop, Lydia.”

Lydia stopped, “What?”

“I'm not going to have my memories sucked out, am I? That looks very hungry and worrisome,”

Lydia's first reaction was to balk at the idea that she was somehow not in control. Then she thought again. Lydia created this spell to consume and recreate her body from scratch. Adding the desires and memories of a dozen werewolves and two alphas to the original intent _could_ mutate the spell. Lydia looked out and saw the edge of her forest slowly expanding.

It was still growing. Lydia wasn't powering that growth.

Stiles might not be right. But he might not be wrong, either.

Lydia said, “Does it look threatening to you?”

“Oh my god, yes. Please, don't let it get any closer. This entire place looks like some hungry monster that is just waiting for me to get close enough to eat. I can see it still growing, too. There are dozens of concentrations of magic just like the one you walked out of. Small pockets of inner magic looking like they're getting ready to bloom just like you did. I even see something eating at the roots of your willow tree. It looks like it's trying to take control of the willow.”

Lydia thought for a moment.

“Impossible. This was my magic that created this place. This _IS_ my magic. They can't take it over.”

“How is 'impossible' still in your vocabulary? I'm a fuckin' dragon and you're a nature goddess. Oh my god, Lydia. I... I think you need to destroy it.”

Now Lydia was offended. She wanted to scream.

“Millenniums of experiences and knowledge. I can't destroy that! It'd be like destroying the Library of Alexandria. I haven't even really tapped any of it! Think of what we could learn. Demetrio has knowledge passed down from an unbroken line of hundreds of alphas.”

“You sound like I did when I killed three alphas and grew twelve feet tall. Are you seriously that worried about your ability to take over the world that you can't sacrifice knowledge gained from the death and torture of countless people? Knowledge and memories that looks like it is about to give birth to some seriously messed up werewolves?”

“Not countless, they kept a tally.” And suddenly the weight of the situation hit. This place was barely under her control. She couldn't destroy it. But it couldn't be allowed to continue growing. “When did you get so persuasive?”

Lightning zapped down from the clouds and struck a tree far below. Now that Lydia took a moment to look, that tree looked very pregnant. As another bolt of lighting struck it, an unknown female werewolf broke through the bark and collapsed to the ground, dead.

Lydia said, “Damn magic. Never works like you think it's going to work.”

At a gesture and a stomp the willow's bark twisted and bulged. Warding eyes opened under Lydia's command and the forest went still.

Stiles said, “Huh. Okay. That looks a lot more pleasant. It's like, 5% of what it was before, and it stopped growing. It looks like the forest you made at home.”

Lydia smiled, “You think of the Hale house as home, now?”

“Freudian slip. Shut up.”

Jackson said, “Can Lydia get us now, or am I going to have to jump on you again?”

Stiles said, “It looks safe. Nothing out of the ordinary. Well. You know what I mean. This entire place is out of the ordinary. But now it looks just this side not-hungry on the will-it-eat-me scale. And hey. I can move my hands now.”

Lydia directed a set of vines from a few nearby warding eyes up towards Stiles. They wrapped around his feet and slowly pulled him to Lydia's position on the willow trunk. Jackson leapt the final five feet, hopped over the railing like a gymnast, and wrapped Lydia in his arms. Lydia returned the embrace.

_It's good to be alive._

Stiles said, “Kissing is plenty. Please do not do any more than that.”

Jackson said, “Shut up, Stiles.”

Stiles said, “This is so surreal. We're in a garden straight out of a fairy tale and you're both very nude. I was the first one to introduce magic into our little group and I'm a dragon which is sort of like a snake. But Jackson is the actual snake... Hmm... I don't see any apple or pomegranate trees anywhere... I was trying to do a Garden of Eden thing but I lost track of it somewhere in the middle. This analogy needs work. We don't even have any flaming swords or angel comparisons. That tree could pass for a creepy thousand-eyed god, though.”

Lydia smiled against Jackson's neck.

Jackson said, “Shut up, Stiles.”

“All I can do is talk! You shut up. Jerk-son.”

Lydia said, “We still have no way to move memories from one person to another. What I did was only possible because I was a part of the magic, and I'm not dying again if I can help it. Besides that, I don't have the inner magic necessary to facilitate memory transfer. I doubt Derek could do it. No offense meant, Stiles, but compared to these guys, Derek knows nothing.”

Stiles sighed, “Yes. I am aware. He tries. That's all I can really hope for, right now. If you were the one that let in the Evil that killed your family, you'd be pretty messed up, too.”

Lydia said, “That's another thing. I don't feel that Derek is mentally balanced enough, or open enough, for the finesse required when dealing with other people's memories. And, no offense, but I am not trusting my parent's memories to Scott. He is a great guy, but he isn't smart enough for this.”

Stiles laughed, “If he wasn't my best friend, I would have to agree with you. As it is, I abstain. I think Danny turned alpha. It feels and looks that way, anyway. He could do it. He is smart enough and balanced enough.”

Jackson said, “Danny is an alpha now?” Jackson paused, “Is that what that feeling is? It's all calm-like.”

Lydia said, “Danny is smart and mentally balanced, but from what I gathered from the alphas, he would not be a good choice for this process. I don't know if memory transfer would work well when the alpha is a mutant werewolf. Also, he hasn't had any experience with magic.”

Stiles said, “But... Then who? Demetrio would never reverse what he did.”

Lydia broke away from Jackson's embrace. She held up a finger towards Jackson, discouraged him from speaking with stern look, and put on her 'I'm going to have to tell you some bad news' face. Jackson's eyes went wide with concern, but he didn't speak. She put her hands on the railing and turned towards Stiles. She directed the vines to move him to a better position so she could look him in the face when she spoke.

Stiles said, “Oh my god. I don't have to see that.”

Lydia said, “The only one I trust is you, Stiles.”

Stiles laughed, “Whaaat?”

Lydia said, “You're smart, you're mentally balanced, and you're good with magic. But there is a problem.”

“Damn right there is a problem. I'm not an alpha. I'm not even a werewolf. I don't want to be a werewolf.”

“But you could be. You don't even have to take the Bite. It's already inside you. But unless you fully embrace that power, meaning without the bracelet to shield you from fully transforming, you won't be able to hold people's memories. Monica's experiment was a success. I know that if you took off that bracelet, your eyes would be red instead of white.” Stiles's eyes went wide. Lydia kept talking, “I know that you can already see the strings of magic everywhere in Beacon Hills. When you take off the bracelet and accept the inner-magic already inside of you, we can start. It won't take me long to teach you how to take the memories from Demetrio. From there, I'll teach you how to repair what was done to our parents and the people in town.”

Stiles said nothing.

After a minute, Stiles said, “I like me...”

“I won't lie. You'll be an abomination just like me, and just like Danny, and you'd be an alpha. You'll never be able to go back to normal by just purging yourself with the mountain ash belt.” Lydia smiled at Jackson then looked back at Stiles, “But some things won't change. Derek would still love you just the same. We all would. You would get a real pack bond. And being a were-creature doesn't change the fact that you're still a sentient being fully capable of making your own choices. I doubt you could still do magic like you can right now, you'd lose all of the possibilities of learning greater spells, but you would have the powers of an alpha.”

Stiles said nothing and waited for Lydia to continue talking. Or, it could just be that he couldn't move. Lydia considered that if Stiles could, he might have already run away from this conversation.

Lydia said, “The complete transformation will fully purge you of your paralysis. In fact, very little of anything would be able to affect you if you didn't want it to. The process of your transformation has already begun. The bracelet is the only thing inhibiting the process from completing. All you have to do is remove the bracelet and fully embrace the dragon, so to speak. ”

Stiles said, “You don't know the horrible thoughts that I had when this dragon-stuff started. I don't want those feelings or thoughts ever again.”

Lydia said, “Yeah. Well. Who would you suggest?”

Stiles said, “Only an alpha can hold the memories and transfer them, right?”

Lydia said, “Yes.”

Stiles stared at Lydia. Lydia stared right back, unflinching.

Stiles narrowed his eyes, “What are you getting out of this?”

Lydia said, “Your scales. Your crystallized magic is superconductive. You will literally change the way the world works and I want to be there when that happens.”

Stiles said, “Yeah? Well. I'm never letting you have any. So, now that that particular piece of power is out of your reach forever, Got any other bright ideas?”

Lydia gasped, “You would deny me a pittance for helping you save everyone?”

Stiles growled, “I hate losing the little control I have, Lydia. I'm not like you. I've never been in control. I get panic attacks. I'm amazed I'm not having one right now. I'm a spaz at everything. I have ADD and it's fucked up my life! I don't want to lose any more control.”

Lydia stepped back and sighed. She could understand Stiles's issues with becoming a were-creature. When her hallucinations got bad, everything was out of Lydia's control. Those hallucinations were the worst experiences of Lydia's life.

Jackson kept well clear of the argument.

Stiles said, “Are you sure you can't do it?”

Lydia said, “It requires a vast reserve of inner magic and the mind to direct that flow. I'm immune to the bite. Think about it, Stiles. I can't do it.”

Stiles said, “Then how did you do all of this stupid were-garden?”

Lydia said, “Like drinking a diet coke. You get full, but you don't absorb anything besides the taste.”

Stiles said, “That's a much better analogy than my Garden of Eden one.”

“Look. Stiles. We'll all be there for you to help you cope. Danny will be there with all his calming glory. I know what it's like to lose your mind a bit. But... Are you that set against doing this?” Lydia racked her brain, “Isaac is too inexperienced about everything to even consider him. Boyd and Erica are already messed up, so they're out. Jackson is too mutative.” Lydia glanced at a slightly offended Jackson, “Sorry, Honey. I love you, but you really shouldn't use your were-abilities extensively for at least three years. They didn't complete their goals with you, but you're still not stable. Peter would like the alpha power back. But. Do you want Peter to have control over what memories he gives your father? Of what memories he gives to anyone?”

Stiles said, “Okay. Fine. I admit, we're all a bunch of rejects. What did Monica want me for? How did she know I was going to end up this way?”

Lydia said, “Your ability to use the Caduceus Bracelet is rare. Caduceus-users, almost without fail, all turn into dragons once they have been exposed to enough magic. Alan knew what might happen to you, but he withheld that information so you could make a decision about your future _after_ you tried it out. A day later, when Monica found out you could use the Caduceus Bracelet, she contacted the alpha pack. That was when they started working together. Monica had them take the knowledge of your eventual dragon-y self from Alan's mind. After they took his memories, he didn't know that your transformation was a thing he needed to keep an eye out for, so he didn't.”

Lydia paused and tried to read Stiles's expression. Whatever Stiles was thinking, it didn't show on his partially scaled face, so she continued, “If you want a description for what you are: You're a being of inner magic that materializes outer magic for use as a shield and a weapon. Dragons are really not much more than that. But it's that materialized outer magic that made you desirable to Monica. Monica wanted you for material components. If that worries you, the alpha pack thinks that Monica's organization doesn't know how far you've gone with the Caduceus Bracelet. No one outside of Beacon Hills knows about you. We can keep it that way, too.”

“But... Once you take the Bite, once you take inner magic inside, you lose the ability to do outer magic. Right?”

“In almost all cases, yes. For you? For dragons? It's not that simple. You lose a lot of the variety you would have had as a mage, but you should still be able to do the lighting and flying thing. Transforming might become painful... Sorry, about that.”

Stiles sighed, “Is this the only way? For all my problems... I like being me.”

Lydia said, “Sorry, Stiles. I can't think of another possible way. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can get all of our parents back, and the sooner we can end the alpha pack threat. Even if you decide to never give out any superconductive scales, that doesn't change the fact that you're still the best choice.”

Stiles asked, “Am I, really?”

Lydia said, “Yes.”

Stiles closed his eyes. Lydia walked back to Jackson and waited for Stiles to make a decision.

_He'll be perfectly fine if he chooses to be a dragon._

_What other option do we have?_

_Peter isn't even an alpha right now. Would he want to be an alpha?_

_Oh. No. We can't let him mess with the minds of the Argents. Peter'd turn them into Manchurian Candidates, just like Demetrio did to Boyd and Erica. Peter'd send them on a killing spree against the other Argents._

_If Stiles suggests Peter, I'll tell him that._

_Scott isn't even a consideration. As soon as he has too much on his mind, something always goes wrong. Sorry, Scott._

_Derek really isn't balanced enough, or open enough, to deal with other people's problems._

_Danny would be the backup-plan. Sure, he's smart and mentally balanced. But I don't know how a mutant alpha with no knowledge of magic would react to dealing with people's memories. If we have to, we can use him._

_But I'd rather use Stiles._

_Stiles has all the smarts, the power, and the mental balance required of the job._

_Why is he so hard on himself?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE COMMENTS. Especially the critical and helpful kind.  
> Please tell me if it was confusing to read. I feel like I might have lost a lot of people in the first half of this chapter.
> 
> If I haven't driven you off yet, and if you'd like, you can follow me at: arcs-of-light.tumblr.com


	12. Stiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles makes a decision.

Stiles opened his eyes and looked at Lydia and Jackson. They stood together against the railing, their backs towards Stiles.

Stiles said, “Lydia.”

Lydia slowly turned back around to face Stiles. Six months ago, the sight of her comfortably naked around him would have instantly induced an erection. Now, it was just sort-of boring, and more than a little bit annoying. Was she trying to use her sexuality to get Stiles to go along with her decision? Even Lydia had to be a better person than that.

But Lydia had used her sexuality to get Jackson while Jackson was the top dog at the school. She had even tried to get Scott when Scott was looking to replace Jackson.

Lydia said, in that recorded call between her and Demetrio, that she already had the world, and that Demetrio would have to do better than that if he wanted to trade for Stiles. She was ruthless and that was a part of her charm. But Stiles had never really considered that he would be one of the people that Lydia used.

Obviously, that notion needed to change.

If there were two options, one where everyone got something, or where she was the only benefactor, she would pick the first.

Maybe, if Stiles offered her something else...

Maybe then, she would change her mind. Or at least think of some other option.

Stiles said, “I'll give you that three foot tail spike I've kept for myself, if you can think of another way.” Lydia narrowed her eyes at Stiles. Stiles continued, “Morgan was a mutant werewolf, too. Wasn't she? Either the male or the female side was the fully-transformed side. She/he was fully capable of doing this memory stuff too, right? Danny probably could, too.”

Lydia said, “You're correct about Morgan. Demetrio is a non-standard werewolf as well. I don't know what, exactly, either of them are. But yes, they were both capable of this memory thing. Everyone of the alpha pack is. Demetrio most of all. It's how he ended up as the head-alpha. But keep in mind that they all had access to the alpha-related knowledge that Demetrio stored within himself. Each one of them had, effectively, a thousand years worth of experience with this stuff.”

“So Danny could do it.”

“... Theoretically.”

“What is your plan if I say yes?”

“I was going to have you go down into this forest to try to tap into that alpha-related knowledge.”

“What would happen if Danny did it?”

“When they tried to fool with my memories once, and only once, I was like an invasion in that particular alpha. I killed that alpha without meaning too, and they killed that infected alpha to keep the infection from spreading. Then they resurrected him into one of their betas. If Danny tries to absorb the memories trapped here, he might end up infecting all of this knowledge, including how to reverse the alterations done to our parents and everyone else in town. I won't flip a coin and take a chance with Danny when we have a sure thing if you were to do it.”

“We could test Danny out on someone else, first.”

“Who would you suggest then? One of the random people in town that could die from it? Or one of the hunters in town that might deserve to die for past deeds that we don't know about? There is no morally right choice if we go that way.”

“But...”

“We've been talking about this for a while now. Do you think Demetrio is going to wait for us forever?”

“You know all about him now, right? What will his next move be?”

Lydia said, “I found out most of what I was interested in but I didn't get _everything_. If I got _everything_ then I wouldn't've needed to do these wards to suppress this were-garden. If I got _everything_ it would all be inside of me. This stuff here isn't even the main part. Most of the memories left along the alpha pack's pack-bond.”

Lydia paused and looked out over the garden, “What is here is the remnants of a vast backup-system, and not the actual source. All of the heavy stuff is with Demetrio and the other twin, Cassandra. Events like this, where only two or three of survived the fight, have happened before. They're desperate now whereas they were cocky before, but they aren't scared. At this stage: Their first move will be to go to ground nearby. Then, they will find out how much we know by using guerrilla tactics to take one of our members and strip them of their memories. That will determine how they go about everything else.”

“They won't just leave?”

“They want their alpha-status back. And they still have their main plan to complete. They will never leave. Right now, the entire town is in danger. They'll go on a mass-Biting campaign. They'll use some of those bodies to resurrect their alpha pack, but the majority will just be rabid omegas. With Monica assisting them they'll be able to resurrect their people tonight. Then, they'll move around and pick us off when they can. This is when they are the most dangerous. They have nothing to lose and everything to gain if they go all out.”

“It's not a full moon tonight! How could they resurrect anyone?”

“It's close enough. Monica is much better at this now than I was then.”

“... Fucking rule-breakers.”

“... Says the being of inner-magic that uses outer-magic.”

“Oh my god.”

“Offering the tail-spike was a nice try, but, right now, I care about my parents more than I care about flying cars. You're still the best choice for this, Stiles.”

Stiles sighed, “... But... Fine. I'll do it. Just so you know: If I go insane and kill you, it's your fault. You're not allowed to haunt me if that happens.”

Lydia smiled, “You won't go insane, Stiles. And besides, I'll haunt whoever I damn well want to haunt.”

The bracelet hid under a thin layer of scales around his right wrist. As Stiles concentrated, the scales protecting the bracelet fell away into wispy strands of light. The metal jangled out, the twelve colors of the metal links glinting in the sunrise. Stiles could barely move his forearms.

Lydia said, “Want me to take it?”

Stiles said, “Try to slide it off. Don't break it. I'll give it back to Alan.”

“Mind if we move you further over the tree trunk?”

Stiles said, “... Sure. Not like I can do it myself.”

Lydia nodded over to Jackson, “Help me pull him over the tree.”

Jackson said, “Okay.”

 

Stiles hovered over the middle of the path down the trunk of the willow tree. Lydia and Jackson stood further up the tree, leaning against the railing. Lydia held the Caduceus Bracelet in her hands.

Stiles felt scared. It would be nice if Derek was here, but too many things stood between that happening and the alpha pack making a move. To wait, would be to knowingly let some innocent person die.

Stiles knew he wasn't like Scott. Scott chose to poison Gerard into running away instead of killing Gerard when Scott had the chance. Stiles knew, for a fact and without a doubt, that he would have given Gerard real poison instead of mountain ash.

Scott's caring nature was directly responsible for Gerard killing dozens with a faulty Bite. But Stiles would never say that to anyone. No doubt, Scott already felt that way. He didn't need reminding.

_Scott can stay caring. I'll do the tough job._

_Me. Derek. Lydia. We're not cut out for caring like Scott is._

_Danny will probably be a good alpha, though._

_I can do this. I'll be fine. Oh. Hey. Derek can be my anchor. We'll get matching little anchors on our asses, or something. Maybe our ankles. How does Derek even have a tattoo in the first place?_

_Hmm... Anchor tattoos. I'll be all like: Heeeey Sailor-man._

_Ha. Sailor-man. Sailor Moon. We'll be moon princes together. Maybe we can dress up like that for Halloween. Ohh. Old Anime. Why do I watch so much of you? Probably the same reasons I play video games and read fantasy novels. Escapism._

_Believe in it to make it work, huh, Alan? Did I believe in this dragon-y eventuality from the very beginning, or did this sort-of just happen? I wonder what you'd say right now if I asked that question._

_Too many things happening too fast. No time to really stop and think about any of it. Stupid alpha pack forcing me to give up my humanity._

_I don't want to lose control._

Lydia interrupted his thoughts, “Feel any different?”

Stiles said, “Not really.”

Lydia smiled. Jackson sighed as though relieved. Had something happened?

Stiles said, “What?”

Lydia said, “You sure you don't feel any different? Your sclera is even red. Your eyes are like giant glowing rubies. It's quite pretty.”

Jackson said, “Focus on your pack bond.”

Stiles said, “It doesn't feel any different. Maybe a bit warmer.”

Stiles closed his eyes and concentrated on the pack bond he developed only yesterday. Like a little twisting wind, it hovered on the edge of his mind. As Stiles concentrated, it unfolded with a sigh.

Stiles felt them. Derek, Scott, Danny, Jackson, Isaac, Peter, and on the outside of it all, grew Lydia.

It felt safe. It felt warm. It was Pack.

_Talk about a sausage party._

Instantly, Stiles felt Derek's inquisitive and worried feelings transmit along the bond. Stiles sent back happy thoughts, opened his eyes, then let the pack bond fall into the background of his mind.

Jackson said, “That seemed easy enough.”

Lydia said, “So it's done? You feel like a were-creature now?”

Stiles said, “I have a pack bond that is very different from how it was before, but I don't know anything beyond that. How am I supposed to know?”

Lydia said, “Maybe... We know that inner magic responds to primal desires while outer magic responds to conscious desires. Maybe your were-self is all about control, since that's what you were really worried about. Honestly-” Lydia twirled her fingers through the air. Stiles hadn't noticed that he was surrounded by warding eyes until after Lydia started removing them, “I was expecting a lot more theatrics.”

Stiles smiled and flexed his wings to touch down to the ground, “I'm glad to disappoint you. Glad to see you took precautions, too. Oh. Hey,” Stiles swished his tail back and forth, flexed his wings, and moved his legs, “I can move again.”

Lydia said, “I think it took, then. Time for you to learn a bit about memory manipulation.”

Stiles said, “Yes... Where should we do that? How would I do that?”

Stiles looked around. Lines of inner magic swirled within the plants of the were-garden. Looking back up, Jackson was a tangle of black and shadowy lines. Lydia was brilliantly prismatic. The main willow they stood upon was colored the same as Lydia. Back in the garden, no single spot looked stronger or weaker than any other spot.

Lydia said, “Anywhere outside of this main willow should be adequate for our needs. To start: Concentrate on what you want to know. That knowledge should come forward. It might help to pretend you're researching on the internet.”

Stiles said, “Is that all? I could do that all night long. I have, too, multiple times.”

Lydia smiled, “I know you have. First, you're just going to read the flow of magic like you're glancing through Google. Then, after finding what you want to find, go a bit deeper. Just look, for now. After you get a handle on the magic the rest should come rather quickly. Concentrate on knowing everything about being an alpha...

 

Stiles flew down to the ground, hovered over the roots of a large pine tree a few hundred feet away from Lydia's willow, and gently pressed his talons into the pliant wood.

 

It was like having a week-long lesson with Alan in the span of a few moments. In a minute, Stiles knew more than he cared to know about alpha-powers, and had seen more blood through second-hand vision than he cared to ever see again.

_I'm going to be sick._

Stiles broke away from the tree and dry-heaved.

 

Stiles landed in front of Lydia and Jackson. Lydia had made herself a loveseat for two with an arch of strong wood coming up from the sides. She also made herself and Jackson designer clothes out of large leaves and vines.

Stiles said, “You want to turn me into some sort of ski-lift, don't you? And are you wearing a particular designer or is that one of your own?”

Lydia smiled and ran a hand down her leafy dress, “Do you like it? It's my own design. Ever seen that TV show Project Runway? I was going to just be naked but then we had ten minutes to kill. So I made some clothes with nature as my muse.”

“Never seen that show. Sorry.”

Jackson said, “I got her every season for her 15th birthday. Then I had to watch them all with her. Never doing that again.”

Lydia said, “You liked it! Don't try to deny it! And yes, you're now a ski-lift, Stiles. How else would we all get back to the rest of the Pack? I take it that it went well down there? You were only at it for ten minutes.”

Stiles grinned, “For the record: I'm reasonably sure I don't like being transportation. This is obviously an emergency, so I'll ignore it, for now.”

Lydia said, “Fair enough. How well did it go?”

“I've seen more blood than I care to. Have much more control that I thought possible. And I know that Demetrio does have the bulk of the pack's history inside of him. Question: In the end: Do you want to kill him, or throw him back in here? I got the distinct feeling that this were-garden is alive, and that this were-garden wants Demetrio.”

Lydia's eyes went wide, “Um. We'll discuss that with Alan. I'm not comfortable knowing that I've trapped people here. I guess I didn't really think of that. Did they really seem alive? Also: It's fine to have a plan, but whatever we do is bound to get fucked up. Let's keep death as our primary option, and our secondary, and probably preferable plan, will be to throw him in here. After we take our parents back, of course.”

Stiles said, “I'm not sure they're alive or not. It just seemed like they wanted Demetrio. Define 'Alive' and I could probably answer that question.”

Lydia said, “Philosophically, or scientifically?”

Jackson grunted, “Can we get a move on? How are we going to do _any_ of that, in the first place? Could we actually subdue him without killing him, somehow?”

Stiles said, “About that. I think I saw something that will help. There's a pool of water down there, not very deep, that's full of Jackson's paralyzing goo. Can you make like, a bucket, or something, and I'll go and get some of it to use on Demetrio?”

Lydia said. “That might be a good thing... Oh. Probably not, actually. Why is there a pool of it down there? And it still looked potent, even dissolved in water? We can't let that exist. That will not be good.”

Stiles said, “I thought you understood all of what happened while you were dead?”

Lydia said, “Obviously not all of it. I only _viewed_ the contents of this were-garden. You're the one that got to _download_ the information.”

Stiles said, “Jackson was half transformed when I got to him. He was already spilling goo everywhere. There was a lot of it. And then there was rain. You know how it goes.”

Lydia said, “That means Demetrio probably has some, too. That might be the worst news I've heard all day.”

Jackson glared, “Your definitions of bad and good never cease to amaze me. Stiles is immune, and so are you. All Stiles has to do is splash some goo on Demetrio, then proceed to take back what Demetrio stole. We're almost at the end of this alpha pack shit. What's the problem?”

Lydia said, “I don't know how potent your goo would be when dissolved in a large body of water, but it's possible... All Demetrio has to do is put that goo into the reservoir to the east of town. Worst case scenario: Then the entire town will be paralyzed. Every geriatric or sick person has a high chance of dying. Everyone that lives mutates into a non-standard were-creature. So yes, Jackson. That is the worst news I've heard all day. And it's not even 8:00 am!”

Stiles pushed up off of the willow's trunk and flew several hundred feet into the sky for a better view of Beacon Hills. The Pack was still at Alan's house. Small disturbances, likely their memory-altered parents and the rest of the victims at the station, were on their way to the Hale House.

But Lydia had protected the Hale House with her warding roses. None of those people would be able to do anything to the house, and the Pack wasn't there, so there wasn't much to worry about. If the Pack had to rebuild the house again it would be a real pain in the ass, but not much more than that.

Stiles searched for signs of Demetrio.

Monica's house sat on the east side of town near the outskirts. Just like Lydia's house, it butted against the forest. Normally, the place looked like a tangle of shadowy outer magic that Stiles could only describe as 'Monica'. But now...

Monica's house was a small hub of distended shadows on the edge of a forest full of inner magic. Like a giant web, were-magic covered at least five or six warehouse-sized blocks of the forest. At least a dozen beta-sized beings walked around the web while many smaller bundles of inner magic didn't move at all. Stiles didn't know where the reservoir was, but one alpha-sized creature was moving from the north back towards the web.

_Two alphas survived the Pack's attack. That one walking back to Monica's isn't Demetrio. Demetrio was bigger than that alpha. Where is he, and what the fuck is all that web shit?_

As Stiles searched, a part of the web shifted. As Stiles kept looking, a house-sized bundle of were-magic patrolled around the web.

Stiles quickly descended towards Lydia and Jackson.

Lydia said, “What did you see?”

Stiles said, “Did you happen to catch what Demetrio's transformed self was?”

Lydia paused, “... No. All I saw was that he and Morgan were not normal werewolves. I think he kept that specific knowledge with him and out of the alpha pack.”

“I think you're right about that. I couldn't see that piece of information either. Bad news first: I think they already dumped Jackson's goo in the reservoir. One of them was moving from north of Monica's house back towards Monica's house. But I can't make it out one way or the other from this distance. Good news: You could still probably clean it out with your growing powers. Or at least stuff up the machinations of the reservoir. Maybe. Better News: I think I know what Demetrio is. I think he's a giant spider. It makes sense, if you think about it. Fits with the whole 'sucking memories out or people' theme. You don't have a fear of spiders, do you?”

Lydia and Jackson mirrored each other. Wide eyed, the smell of terror, and a small step backward, they were both, obviously, terrified of spiders.

Stiles tried not to gloat.

Stiles smiled, “Big as a house, too. He's covered a rather large space behind Monica's house with a giant web. No big deal, guys. N-B-D.”

Jackson said, “Holy-fuck-no.”

Stiles couldn't contain his laughter for very long. Stiles failed at not-gloating.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was the last of the explanation chapters. I hope it is all clear and you didn't suffer boredom!  
> The next chapters will be a lot of action. 
> 
> I LOVE COMMENTS. Especially the critical and helpful kind.
> 
> If I haven't driven you off yet, and if you'd like, you can follow me at: arcs-of-light.tumblr.com


	13. Derek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pack reunites.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was very tired when I finished this. Sorry if there are mistakes.

 Derek and the Pack sat around Alan's living room debating the merits of attacking in the daytime when Stiles's tenuous pack bond expanded.

Scott said, “We can't attack during the day. People will see! We hav-”

Alan glanced around at the suddenly quiet room of werewolves, “What happened?”

_Stiles? Are you okay?_

As fast as it had occurred, it left. Stiles felt, if not exactly happy, pleasant.

Derek slammed shut his eyes and frantically searched along his alpha pack-bond.

The cables of trust and power knitting the Pack together had frayed and snapped when Boyd and Erica tore a gaping wound in the whole. Danny, after he came down from the blood rage of the battle, soothed much of the rough edges in the Pack. Danny's massive influx of power had probably even saved Peter's life. And now, Stiles, too, had a pack bond like an alpha.

Scott was the first to speak, “Why, Stiles? How?”

Danny said, “Stiles is an alpha now? That's what it feels like with you two. How did that happen?”

Alan said, “Stiles is an alpha?”

Scott said, “Jackson and Lydia seem fine. Stiles didn't do it to save them, I don't think.”

Derek opened his eyes and furrowed his brow, “He'll tell us when he gets here.”

Peter, who until just now had been lying unconscious on an inflatable guest mattress and trying to heal, opened his eyes, sat up, and looked around. Isaac, who had been sitting near Peter while Peter slept, now handed Peter a cup of water.

Wide-eyed Isaac said, “Your wounds just... snapped shut.”

Peter felt his abs, smiled, then took the offered cup, “Thank you, Isaac. I think I'll be fine now. Four alphas in a Pack. And I thought three was heady.”

Scott asked Peter, “Feeling better?”

Peter said, “Much better.”

Scott asked, “Good. Any idea how this happened to Stiles? Or why?”

Peter looked towards Alan, “Ask him. I can't seem to trust my own memories.”

Everyone turned towards Alan.

Alan said, “I'm not sure. Most of my memories about what is happening to Stiles seem to have been erased, taken, or altered. I'm not going to consult my people about this, either. They're already in an uproar. But: If I were to guess, I'd guess that Stiles took off the bracelet and gave in to the alpha power that has been swirling around inside of him. Why would he do that? I have no idea. Does he feel scared or angry?”

Derek said, “No.”

Scott said, “Almost... Relieved?”

Danny added. “Accepting.”

Scott said, “That too.”

Alan said, “Done of his own free will, then. As for why: Like Derek said, we'll just have to wait and ask him when he gets here.”

Isaac asked, “We're in the middle of hostile territory and innocent people are waking up to go to work. How are the three of them going to get here without being seen? Is Stiles still a dragon? Or is he a werewolf now?”

Alan shook his head, “I... don't know... These questions are becoming physically painful. I need to get some aspirin. If you'll excuse me.”

 

Derek sat next to a window with his eyes turned towards the western skies. Almost an hour had passed between Stiles's pack bond solidifying his status as an alpha, and now. Stiles had to know the danger he would be getting into if he just rushed in here. That must be why he was taking his time.

Besides the hunters stationed somewhere outside, multiple police cruisers had been seen driving down the street in front of Alan's house.

But Alan had made the area invisible and inaccessible to outsiders.

When asked if Stiles, Jackson, and Lydia would still be able to find them, Alan said that they should not have an issue locating the house. Their Pack was here, after all.

A crack of thunder startled Derek as light and noise boomed across the sky. In a minute, scattered clouds turned into expansive thunderheads and plunged the city firmly back into darkness. That was all the proof anyone needed.

Stiles was still a dragon.

In ten minutes, heavy rain drowned out the sounds of Beacon Hills.

 

The rain continued for twenty more minutes.

_What the fuck is taking you so long, Stiles?_

Peter and Isaac made pancakes using Alan's kitchen. Danny sat in a spartan chair by an unoccupied window and meditated. Scott and Derek stood near opposing windows and kept their senses focused outside of the house.

The walls of magic between Alan's property and the outside were thick enough that sounds from inside never left, and outside sounds had a margin of difficulty getting in. While Scott thought he heard four hunters within hearing range, Derek heard five. Telling Scott he was wrong wasn't going to get anyone anywhere. So Derek ignored the discrepancy, hoping it wouldn't turn into a problem.

Stiles was not in any danger or pain, according to his pack bond. Jackson was fine, too. Why they remained at the edge of the forest was anyone's guess.

Alan milled around inside his office. He supposedly researched through his library and tried to rediscover all the information that the alpha pack had taken from him. Apparently, it was a big deal that Monica's integrity was compromised. If Alan didn't contain this situation, Alan and the rest of Beacon Hills would become subject to a full-blown 'Inquiry'. Whatever that meant.

_More headaches from people thinking they have a right to push us around. Some things never change._

Scott grumbled to no one in particular, “What they fuck is taking you three so long?”

Peter said, “Pancakes are getting ready. Who wants the first ones?”

Danny stood up from his chair and walked towards the kitchen. Before long, everyone had a stack of pancakes. Even Alan had even come out of his office and took an offered plate of pancakes from Isaac.

They sat around the room, no one talking about anything, everyone seemingly growing more disgusted as the minutes ticked away.

Isaac asked Alan, “This storm _is_ from Stiles, right?”

Alan said, “It is magical in nature, and it seems to be what Stiles was capable of before he accepted his status as a were-creature, so... Probably.”

Derek said, “Is that the best answer you have? 'Probably'?”

Alan set down his fork and sighed, “Yes. Derek. That is the best answer I have.”

Derek narrowed his eyes.

Alan said, “Where are they now?”

Scott answered, “They're still at the edge of town. I think Lydia is there with them, too.”

Alan said, “Are they moving slowly, or quickly?”

Scott said, “Not moving at all. But not hurt either. I have no idea why they aren't moving towards us.”

Alan said, “No one can get into the house, but the alpha pack has to be aware that we're here. If Monica or one of the alphas are lying in wait, Stiles would just blast them and come on in. He hasn't. Which means that there are innocent mind-controlled people out there. You've seen the police cars. They've circled around this place multiple times. Since Demetrio can replace people's memories and has access to the Argent's high-powered sniper rifles, there are probably a few snipers between them and us.”

Danny said, “You said that already. We know that already.”

Alan didn't respond.

Scott said, “Stiles is smart enough to avoid them. Lydia is there to help, too. So. I repeat: Why isn't he here yet? Should we go out and get him? Or make a plan to get Demetrio and that other alpha before they do anything else?”

Derek said, “We're waiting.”

Scott said, “In case you haven't noticed, you're not the only alpha here and you haven't been for some time. I'm tired of you being an uncooperative butthole.”

Derek huffed and threw his hands into the air, “Dammit, Scott. Wh-”

Danny interrupted him, “I just lost Stiles. Jackson is still there, but not very strong...”

Derek's focus shifted as all of his attention went to searching out Stiles.

Stiles was still there, but quieter and slightly ephemeral. He moved slow and he didn't seem to be in any pain. Stiles left the edge of the forest and came closer with each passing moment.

Scott said, “He's still there. Jackson, too. They're coming this way, but very slowly.”

Scott stood up and walked to the door. Derek trailed right behind him.

Alan slowly followed, “Don't go past the yard. The wards only go so far.”

Peter remained seated, “You've said that before, too,” and kept eating his pancakes.

 

Heavy rain pelted down as most of the Pack stood under the awning, waiting.

Scott was the first to notice them, “There they are. Why are they all wispy?”

Isaac said, “Where?”

Scott said, “Right there.”

Derek's eyes hurt as he tried to look where Scott pointed. After a minute, Derek saw them and knew something was strange.

Stiles, Jackson, and Lydia wavered in and out of sight. They seemed to be walking down the middle of the empty street, but it was hard to tell through heavy rain and their flickering forms. They weren't moving fast. After ten minutes of watching, Derek confirmed that the three were, indeed, walking.

Beneath their mirage, each of them were their normal human-looking selves, but each wore non-normal clothing made of leaves and vines. Jackson and Stiles supported opposite sides of a thin but large wooden ring loaded with warding eyes all along the ring's outer edge. Lydia walked in the middle.

Derek grinned as he imagined the argument over who would have to carry the ring.

_I'm glad he's okay. At least I don't have to tell him about his father. Why else would Stiles have come here like this if he didn't already know?_

Alan smiled, “Everyone is looking to the skies. Misdirection is one of the best ways to construct a successful invisibility spell.”

 

They reached the edge of the property and hit a wall of shimmering air. Their wooden ring bounced backwards, and them with it. Stiles glared at them through the magical wall.

Stiles whispered, “You might be invisible too, but I can see you just fine. I know you're in there.”

Alan said, “What did he say?”

Derek said, “He wants in.”

Alan said, “Of course. But they were with the alphas for a long time. Jackson especially. They might not be them.”

Scott said, “We're not just going to leave them out there, are we?”

Derek said, “No. We're not.”

Alan said, “I'm not opening it until I know they're them. Watch for a minute and see if you can tell.”

Stiles said, “Are you going to let us in? Or does Lydia have to get forceful?”

Lydia said, “They might be worried about Jackson. Or me. Or even you. Boyd and Erica were under their influence and no one could tell until they revealed themselves.”

Jackson said, “Could you stop the rain now, Stiles? This is really uncomfortable.”

Stiles said, “More uncomfortable than being ogled at by a few dozen werewolves for an entire night?”

Jackson said, “Yeah. Because I can't remember most of that.”

Lydia said, “The rain stays. When it stops, they'll think we don't need it anymore.”

Jackson said, “I'm cold, dammit.”

Stiles said, “You should be used to it by now. Reptiles are cold-blooded.”

Jackson said, “Fuck you.”

Stiles said, “That's Derek's job. You can't have it.”

Derek blushed. He knew his face betrayed his emotions when Danny smiled at him, then looked away.

Scott smiled, “I think they're them.”

Derek said, “Let them in.”

Alan picked up an umbrella and opened it before stepping into the rain, “Just be aware that they might not be them.”

 

 

Stiles, Jackson, and Lydia left the wooden ring in the front yard. Lydia and Jackson went straight into the house to get out of the rain. Most of the Pack followed them. Stiles carefully placed a large seedpod on the porch before he turned towards Derek. Scott said something before he went inside, but neither Derek nor Stiles cared what it was.

Derek walked into Stiles and wrapped his arms around him half a second before Stiles did the same to Derek. Rain didn't do much to drown away Stiles's distinct smell of lighting and ozone. Derek breathed it in and felt better with each breath.

Stiles said, “I'm glad you're okay.”

Derek spoke against Stiles's neck, “I'm glad you're okay, too.”

 

Back inside the house, lots of towels and actual clothes were handed out before they started talking. Most of the garments were old clothes that Alan used for painting or jogging. They didn't fit any of the teens, but they were warm and dry, and even Lydia was thankful for the actual cloth against her skin.

Scott and the rest of the Pack gave Lydia, Jackson, and Stiles a warm welcome. Peter went back into the kitchen and fixed three plates full of warm pancakes and hot syrup.

The pancakes were consumed as soon as they were set in front of the teens.

Derek waited for the pleasantries to end and for the bad news to come out. As the 'oh my god you're alives' stopped and the 'what happened out theres' began, Derek braced himself.

_Because there has to be bad news. It's not possible for there to be good news._

Scott said, “I thought you didn't want to be like... this, Stiles. Why'd you do it?”

Stiles smiled and promptly ignored the question, “I have really good news. I have Peter's and Alan's stolen memories. And your's, Scott. And Isaac's and Boyd's and Erica's, too. Bad news: Our parent's and everyone else's memories were taken by Demetrio, so I can't reverse what was done to them until after we subdue Demetrio. But, good news again: Yeah. I can reverse that shit.” Stiles tapped his head with his finger, “I got all of that knowledge up in here.”

_That... is really good news. I was not expecting that. Wait. How is he able to do that?_

The room went silent for a moment.

Alan filled the ensuing silence, “That's why you chose to give up your magic?”

Stiles said, “Can we not talk about that? I'd like to ignore all of those issues and proceed with the plan to save everyone.”

Scott said, “Why did you do it, though? You never wanted this.”

Stiles said, “Just stop, Scott. When this is all over, _then_ we can have a mental breakdown and confession session. Right now there are more important things to focus on. Why aren't you more concerned that I found out how to save our parents?”

Scott said, “So you saw all of the stuff that happened in town, even from way out there?”

Lydia said, “Knowing what happened with our parents came from a different direction than long-range visual reconnaissance and logical reasoning. Stiles seeing all of that was just a confirmation of information we were already privy to.”

Derek said, “Care to share it with the rest of the class?”

Stiles said, “Lydia? You want to tell everyone? I want more pancakes.”

Lydia said, “Sure.”

While Lydia began to recount the events from the alpha pack's perspective, which was strange and odd perspective to even think about, Derek followed Stiles into the kitchen.

 

Derek leaned against the wall as Stiles got out more pancake fixings.

Stiles said, “I'm really glad you're okay, Derek.”

Derek said, “I'm really glad you're okay, too.”

Stiles smiled, turn the stove back on, and sliced off pats of butter onto a grilling pan. As Stiles waited for the pan to heat, he whipped together eggs, milk, and pancake flour in a large bowl.

Stiles said, “You never said anything about an alpha's ability to hold the memories of a pack.”

Derek froze. Holding the Pack's history was one of the most sacred duties of any Alpha in any Pack. Maybe one day, several years from now, Derek would be ready to take up that job. But for now, Derek wasn't comfortable with that duty for many reasons.

Maybe Stiles would move onto a different topic. Whenever Derek didn't reciprocate, Stiles usually moved on.

But sometimes Stiles kept hammering on topics that Derek didn't want to discuss.

Stiles said, “You never talk about yourself. And that's cool. I get it. It's fine. But I think I understand more about you now than I did before. You lost more than just your family and your alpha, didn't you? If I were to lose everyone I know and the internet too, I would have nothing. I'd be lost without any idea of how to move on. Where would I even find a map these days? Do they sell them somewhere?” Stiles paused. When Derek didn't speak, Stiles continued, “If you don't want to correct me, that's fine.”

“... Did you just compare my family to the _internet_?”

“Sorry. I don't have whatever vocabulary you have. I took a lot of stuff from the alphas Lydia killed and I'm still trying to understand all of this myself. Don't get mad at me because I said the wrong word. What's the right word?”

Derek glared at Stiles's turned back.

Stiles poured out a pancake onto the small lake of melted butter in the hot pan. Stiles had a habit of mostly frying his pancakes when his father wasn't eating any. Today continued that tradition.

Stiles said, “Correct me if you want, but I don't hear it happening.”

Derek said, “Tell me why you chose this.”

“So many reasons. I'll write you a book about it someday, but not today.”

“I'll take the cliff-notes.”

“Confession for confession. How about that?”

Derek froze for the second time in ten minutes.

Stiles said, “I'll make it easy for you.”

Derek said, “Fine.”

“Great! I'll go first: How many fried pancakes do you want?”

“One. Do you feel insecure about your place in the Pack?”

“Oh, harsh one.” Stiles carefully flipped the pancake, “And yes. Who wouldn't? We're not the same. I know you've said it doesn't matter, but it does. It matters to me. And before you ask: I did this for enough reasons that you feeling bad about it would be misplaced angst. I don't feel bad about this decision, you shouldn't either. Was anyone hurt in the fight at the police station?”

“Peter, but he got better. How much did you learn?”

“Three to four millennia of were-creatures refining their alpha powers. Most of it's redundant. Most of it's concurrent, too. The actual history only goes back to about 550, or something. Somewhere out of France. A lot of different packs called this particular ability a lot of different things, so I didn't really feel like calling it the 'internet' was that far off. Was calling it the 'internet' really that bad?”

Derek sighed, “No. Not really. We just called it Our History. Dad never talked about what it could do. I only saw him use it for bedtime stories. I only thought an alpha could record memories until Boyd and Erica...” Derek fought off the pain building in his throat. Talking about these things was never easy. Derek grunted out, “Are you still you, Stiles?”

Stiles put the fried pancake out onto a plate, dumped sugar all over it, and with a great big smile, turned around and handed it to Derek. Derek took it. Covered in sugar was just the way he liked his pancakes.

Stiles said, “That's a rather extensive and difficult philosophical question. Was your father still your father? Don't answer that. It was rhetorical. For what it's worth, I'm pretty sure I'm still me. I've got a lot more control now, too. If, when this is all over, you really feel like I shouldn't keep the memories, I've already thought of a way to rid myself of them. Now for my last question: Considering that we need a backup in case things go wrong... Do you want these memories too?”

Derek ate his pancake in silence while Stiles started to make another one.

Stiles made three more pancakes by the time Derek answered.

“Yeah. I'll do it.”

Stiles said, “Good. You still have one more question available.”

Derek smiled, “I'll save it for later.”

Peter stood just outside of the kitchen and said, “I want my memories back.”

Stiles said, “Sure. Did Lydia get to the plan yet?”

Peter said, “Throw paralytic slime at Demetrio, take everything from him, then throw him in the massive were-garden. Once the remnants of the alpha pack are taken care of, we, or more accurately you, and probably Derek at this point, go around and clean up the town. Sounds like a fine plan to me. Scott and Isaac are uncomfortable with killing and Scott wants nothing to do with the memory altering. Lydia thinks Danny shouldn't try for various reasons. The only problem I see is Monica.”

Stiles said, “The only problem? I'm worried about the people they have as hostages, and the potential for the city to be paralyzed and dying with us unable to do anything.”

Peter smiled, “It builds character. They'll be better off when this is all over. And if they're not, you can just erase it from their memories.”

Stiles said, “Bring a new era of peace and joy into the world by brainwashing evil hunters into doing good?”

Peter mocked offense, “I wasn't even thinking of that. But that's a really good idea.”

Stiles grinned, “Sure you weren't.”

Scott joined them in the kitchen, “We've all been awake for a while now. If we can push through it, I want to do this before they get a chance to resurrect anyone. Everyone cool with that? Are you still good to go, Stiles?”

Stiles smiled, “Sure. The faster we repair everyone's fake memories, they easier their recovery will go. By the way, Peter. Earlier, you said we would be having steaks, not pancakes. I was expecting good quality meat when I got back.”

Peter said, “Alan's a vegetarian. Not a single strip of bacon anywhere in this house. If you're desperate, Derek might have some meat for you.”

Stiles said, “Not your best dick joke, but it will do.”

Peter said, “My intestines were outside of my body three hours ago. It took a lot out of me.”

Stiles said, “I'm glad to see most of it got stuffed back in.”

Peter said, "No 'full-of-shit' jokes? I'm hurt."

Stiles said, "I'm tired..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to have lied about this chapter having a lot of action.


	14. Stiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has an issue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited and written while I was sneezing all day long.
> 
> If something doesn't make sense please comment on it!  
> 

Peter was the first to volunteer for the memory re-altering. Accordingly, Peter sat in a chair at the dining room table while Stiles stood behind him.

The only people not devoting their full attention to the procedure were Jackson, Lydia, and Danny. Those three sat with each other in chairs by the living room window and drank coffee while conversing about topics completely unrelated to their possible deaths in the next few hours.

Derek looked stricken with his usual stature of slight constipation. Scott acted like his normal concerned-for-everyone self. Isaac followed Scott's lead but only added to the conversation with pointed looks paired with Scott's emotional cues.

_Does Isaac realize he does that? It's a bit disconcerting._

Scott said, “I don't get why you need to do this, Peter. Can't you just relearn whatever you lost?”

Peter said, “But I am relearning what I lost. If Stiles cares to throw in a bit of that alpha-power knowledge, that would be fine, too.”

Stiles said, “You want that too? I can give you the highlights if you want. Say...” Stiles smiled and everyone seemed a little more anxious, “Want a morality scrubbing while I'm at it?”

Scott grunted, “Ugh. Stiles! Don't even joke about that. I don't care which way you take it. That's Evil, with a capital 'E'!”

Peter said, “You heard the Alpha. We shouldn't be Evil. Save the scrubbing for the hunters.”

Scott face-palm'ed, “This is wrong.”

Stiles said, “Yup. And?”

Scott didn't respond. No one said a word. Except for Lydia, Danny, and Jackson. Those three said lots of words. But they weren't a part of this conversation. Their own conversation hadn't skipped a beat this whole time.

 

Stiles didn't feel _wrong_. At least not in the way that Scott seemed to insinuate.

The memories hadn't tainted Stiles like everyone thought they had. It was very clear, in Stiles's mind anyway, which memories were him and which were not-him. The memories hadn't altered Stiles in a way that Stiles would have considered 'brainwashed'.

But they had changed him.

Like seeing the world through rose-colored glasses until his mother died to cancer.

Like thinking everything is fine, and then werewolves are a thing that exists.

Like thinking a red-headed genius girl was his end-game, only to have that spot taken by a surly brooding alpha _male_ werewolf.

It changes a person to suddenly know that the world is huge and varied and a thousand times more complex than it looks. Second-handily viewing thousands upon thousands of people die to werewolf claws wasn't nearly as traumatic as anything that happened these past eight months. All those other-person memories were like movie reels Stiles could pick up and look at, but they weren't memories that Stiles cared about. They weren't a part of him any more than video games had been.

_But I love video games. Maybe that was a bad example._

They weren't a part of him any more than... Bad horror movies!

_Another bad example. I love bad horror movies. Last summer was one bad horror movie after another._

You're awfully critical. You're not making this easy on me.

_Am I talking to myself?_

Thinking to yourself. But yes. You are. Slightly. Maybe more than slightly.

_Fuck. Oh my god. This can't be good._

Fucking is always a nice activity to think about. Always good for a mental vacation. You know what? You should let Derek hold your tail while he fucks you. Then you can do the same to him.

_That would be fun. Speaking of vacations: I want to take a trip to Hawaii with Derek and fly around the islands. It'd be a wonderful week or two of debauchery._

Yes to all of that. But for now: You should stop thinking to yourself and get on with it. Alan is watching.

_And judging._

Always judging.

 

Alan said, “Nervous, Stiles?”

Stiles shook his head, “I'm not nervous. I'm not having a mental breakdown, either. I'm just digging up Peter's memories so I can do it right.”

Peter said, “Take your time. I'd prefer not to have another one of those pesky mental breakdowns. They're murder on my nails.”

Stiles laughed. No one else laughed.

Stiles mumbled, “Geeze. Lighten up, people. What else would we joke about when death is all we seem to deal with these days?”

Long white talons extended from Stiles's right hand.

_Oh, right. I should give Alan back his Caduceus Bracelet sometime soon-ish._

Stiles's talons hovered an inch above Peter's neck. He gently touched down, his talons parting the skin as easily as they would slice all the way through. Stiles ignored that thought, brought forth Peter's memories and a spattering of general alpha knowledge, and opened himself to the magic inside.

 

Peter existed as a fragmented tangle of burned and twisted dark inner magic. To the untrained eye, Peter was the same as any other werewolf. But Stiles saw the missing spots carved out of Peter's mind by the alpha pack.

Stiles slid Peter's stolen memories back into place. Then, he threw in a bit of alpha-power knowledge. Not much, just enough to help Peter get better control if he ever became an alpha again.

Since Stiles was presently so intimate with everything 'Peter' there was no way Stiles could miss that Peter was still hell-bent on revenge against the Argents. But Stiles wanted to believe that Peter could be a good and decent part of the Pack. And Derek still liked Peter despite all the bad things Peter had done.

Those were reasons enough to trust Peter, for now.

Passing over the burned spots of Peter's mind, Stiles thought about repairing them, but if Stiles repaired them would that be against Peter's wishes?

Stiles resolved to ask Peter if he wanted his burned memories repaired. Stiles didn't think it quite right if he were to go around doing things that Peter hadn't agreed to.

_Oh, good. I'm still capable of morally right choices. Scott would be happy to know that._

Stiles pulled out of Peter's mind.

 

Two spots of blood on Peter's neck was the only indication that anything had been done to him.

Stiles blinked and patted Peter's shoulders, “You're done. How do you feel? I can fix those burned spots if you want. At least I think I can.”

Peter's shoulders twitched, “No thank you. Thanks for the rest.”

Peter stood up a bit quicker than normal Peter behavior. Stiles probably said something Peter didn't appreciate. Peter must be a bit touchy about his burned memories. The older man glanced at Stiles with a smile on his face before he walked to the inflatable mattress and laid down.

_Maybe Peter is just tired. I know I'm tired._

Peter said, “I'm going to rest until it's time to go.”

Stiles said, “Was this tiring?”

Peter said, “Not... Physically.”

Stiles said, “Who's next? Isaac?”

“No.” Isaac blurted out without a moment of hesitation, “Just tell me what they are.”

“Just a few meetings with the twins: Cassandra and Julia. Someone killed Julia, I think. She was the one with blond hair.”

Scott said, “She's dead. Danny did that.”

Danny perked up at his name, “What? Oh. Yeah. I did that.”

Stiles said, “She and Cassandra kind of... tormented Isaac a bit. That's all, Isaac. Looks like you've already gotten half of your revenge, and you didn't even know it! Good job, Danny.”

Danny side-eyed Stiles before returning to his conversation with Lydia and Jackson.

Isaac said, “I don't need those memories. Can you destroy them, or do you need to put them into a person?”

Stiles said, “If you don't want them I'll just destroy them.”

Isaac said, “Do that.”

Scott put an arm over Isaac's shoulder like Isaac had made the right choice. Like there was an actual 'right choice' to be made. Sometimes Stiles envied Scott's wonderful worldview. How he managed to keep it together after all the crap they'd been through was beyond Stiles's ability to comprehend.

_Oh my god. Are they fucking?_

_Impossible. Scott would have told me. Right?_

_I'm just imagining things._

 

Before Stiles gave Derek a quick lesson on alpha powers, he organized a highlight-reel from the millenniums of knowledge taken from the were-garden. When the lesson was complete it was much more concise than the whole thing, which were mostly memories of failure.

Then Stiles realized every failure was a step towards success.

So Stiles re-organized his highlight-reel to show a few dozen failures for each success. The whole thing, once the new version was done, was much more concise than that mess of crap that Stiles pulled from the were-garden.

_Maybe I should get rid of all the extraneous stuff. This is like trudging through a movie store._

Yeah. You probably should. If you gave yourself a year, you could probably tame everything you took. But it's messing with your mind to have your CPU processing all this new stuff.

_Oh my god. Computer jokes. I'm erasing this crap right now. Stupid memory card issues._

As Stiles began discarding everything that wasn't necessary, he began feeling lighter and less tired. There was no way that the alpha pack used all of that knowledge when so much less could do the same job.

The noises in his head stopped as the extraneous memories began deleting.

_Hello? Are you there?_

No one answered Stiles's seeking thoughts.

_Are you really gone?_

Stiles didn't get a response. He was alone again with his personal memories, and the memories of how to be an alpha. As well as Alan's, Scott's, Boyd's, and Erica's stolen memories.

Boyd's and Erica's memories were precious, so Stiles made imaginary memory boxes and stored them in there. The other two would be gone soon enough, one way or the other.

 

Stiles said, “You don't want your memories, do you, Scott? They're just a bit of tormenting thoughts about how you're going to fail and all that. Nothing really important.”

Scott said, “I don't want them. How is this going for you, Stiles? You seem stressed.”

Stiles smiled, “Yeah. But I just deleted about three thousand years of extraneous memories, so I'm feeling a lot better. I was starting to get a voice in my head. It didn't start until I started using this ability. But it's gone now.” Stiles paused, “And I've just deleted your memories now, too. So more space for me.”

Scott shook his head, “A voice in your head? Fuck, Stiles.”

Stiles said, “It's gone now! Oh my god. Stop panicking. A small voice in my head is the least of my current problems.”

Scott said, “Can we just finish this and then go?”

Derek sat down in front of Stiles and tilted his head to the side, “I'm ready. Do it.”

 

After Derek, came Alan. Soon, the only things not-Stiles inside of Stiles's mind were either under tight control, or set aside for later. Nothing not-Stiles occupied his focus, and that felt good.

The voice hadn't said anything in a while. Stiles hoped it was truly gone. Stiles also hoped that the set of memories he had copied for Derek were an adequate condensation of the whole and redundant set of memories that Stiles had fished out of the were-garden.

The whole process was rather wet and icky. After this was done, Stiles wanted nothing to do with memory alteration ever again.

 

After the procedures were done, Scott declared, “Every hour we rest, is another hour they rest. We gotta go!”

Stiles looked around. From what he could make out through the thick haze of the wards surrounding Alan's house, Monica's house looked less bloated and more coming-apart-at-the-seams than it had an hour ago.

Stiles looked around the rest of the house. Stiles expected a light show when he looked at Alan's magical closet, but none of the items were charged with power. The closet on its own was not very magical at all.

Lydia still twinkled prismatic.

Jackson was a bit shadowy but less so than three hours ago. Whatever Fred had done was already wearing off.

Stiles could almost see through Derek's clothes, and damn that was distracting. Derek was all sorts of broody dark sexiness with an attitude and a body to die for. Stiles's gaze lingered on Derek for a little longer than was probably necessary.

Directly outside of the house waited five mind-altered people inside nearby vans. One group of three to the north and a pair to the south, they were the same people as were there two hours ago.

As Stiles looked around, Derek's smile and Scott's frown caught him by surprise.

Stiles said, “You two have the exact opposite faces that you usually do. You're all frowny, Scott. If anyone is going to drive me to question Reality, it's you, Scott, right now. So stop that.”

Scott said, “Your eyes are full red. It's not normal.”

Stiles responded, “And yet, I see in full color! Isn't magic crazy?”

Derek spoke with nonchalant grace and own eyes glowing red, “I think they're nice.”

Scott said, “At least keep the lust out of your voice, Derek.”

Stiles said, “Like _you_ ever tried to keep the lust out of _your_ voice.”

Scott huffed, “We'll use Lydia's ring to exit the property. Sound good?”

Stiles said, “Yup! I'm ready. Everyone else ready?”

Peter sat up, “Ready to get this over with.”

Alan said, “Put it on top of my car and we can all drive there”

Danny said, “That sounds good. Still not sure about the actual fight, though.”

Jackson said, “Stiles brought some of the goo. I thought he was just going to spray it from above?”

Lydia said, “Actually... We should rethink that strategy. We should probably avoid a massive environmental contamination if possible. I wasn't able to clean up the spill in the were-garden but I was able to sequester it. Given time, it should break down. But anything spilled near Monica's house is too close to town to be anything but bad, and unfixable. Stiles, can you see if they put anything in the reservoir from here?”

Stiles said, “If they did, it wasn't a lot. Every instinct I have makes me think they did, but I really can't tell. We're too far away.”

Derek said, “How about bullets filled with goo, instead of wolfsbane?”

Lydia said, “That sounds like a great idea. We just need bullets and guns.”

Stiles said, “That's not too difficult to solve. There's a pair of hunters in that van down the street and three hunters in that other van in the other direction. They probably have just what we'd need.”

Lydia said, “That makes no sen... Hmm. It's possible Demetrio don't know that you can see magic. Monica thought you can, and she told the alpha pack as much. I would have thought Demetrio would have positioned his troops accordingly. Those hunters could be traps, but we should take that chance.”

Stiles said, “I got the impression that Demetrio didn't respect anything Monica said. Can't check on it now. It was starting to get a bit crowded in my head so I deleted everything that I didn't need. ”

Alan said, “It might be a mutation of your exposure to Jackson while Jackson was a Kanima. Your hypervigilance during that time, coupled with the Kanima's influence, mutated you into your ability to see the supernatural. Just like Danny, it didn't manifest until after your first transformation. I suspect many of your schoolmates are in the same boat. They just haven't gotten that final infusion of inner magic to awaken their spiritual mutations. As for your ability to see magic: As long as no one finds out, you should be safe from any repercussions.”

Lydia's heartbeat leapt before she spoke, “You don't think it's because he's a dragon?”

Alan said, “As far as I know, dragons can't normally see magic. With our four known examples of mutation by Kanima as data points, I can say with reasonable certainty that the Kanima's spiritual mutation seems to bring a person's personality and mental traits to the surface in a much stronger way than simple inner magic.”

Stiles looked around.

Derek, Danny, Peter, and Lydia understood what that meant.

Stiles simply grinned and looked at Lydia.

Lydia's 'correct choice' to bring this knowledge of memory alteration back to the Pack was just as mutated as Danny was. If Stiles had corrupted the were-garden, like Lydia had corrupted the 11th alpha, like Lydia was afraid Danny might have corrupted the were-garden, then where would they be?

_We'd have a lot less intel than we do if I had fucked up the were-garden._

_But that didn't happen._

_As it is, we're heading into the final battle with enough knowledge and power and resources that we've got a really good chance at victory. At least I hope it's the final battle._

_So what if I didn't actually have to accept this inner magic?_

_I accepted this power for a lot of reasons._

_Lydia probably thinks I'll never forgive her. Eh. That's not true. She might have pushed me into this, and after I've had a week to digest what this all means I might have something mean to say, but I like flying._

_Scott and Alan would have convinced me to give it up._

_But I really do like flying._

_I'm glad I let this happen._

Stiles said, “Monica seemed to think magical sight was a part of being a dragon. She even had plans for my eyes.”

Alan said, “It's not like I studied dragons in... Hm... Just forget I said anything about that. I'll have to look it up. Whatever the case, it's even more of a reason to not show yourself as a dragon.”

Stiles said, “I wasn't planing on flying around in broad daylight anyway. I can shoot a rifle just fine. So I think I'll do that instead of be a target in the air.”

Lydia's outward appearance of a mental breakdown vanished. With a small grin on her face, she stepped towards the front door.

Lydia said, “So how do you want to take these hunters in their vans?”

 

Two crushed-by-huge-trees vans and five tied up and un-brainwashed hunters later, and the Pack had three sniper rifles, a ton of hollow bullets, and a general idea of what to expect from Demetrio's hunters.

They weren't expecting much.

_But, of course, underestimating Demetrio might be the real trap._

Lydia and Stiles and their seedpod full of Kanima slime occupied a small corner of the front porch. Everyone else was back inside the house and trying to get some rest while Stiles and Lydia worked with the paralytic slime. Stiles filled the silence with non-important chatter, hoping it wouldn't remain awkward for long.

Lydia remained silent for several minutes. After they had each filled their first dozen bullets full of goo, Lydia decided to talk.

Lydia said, “I'm sorry. Stiles. I thought you were the only way. I considered you might be mutated just like the rest of us, but Monica didn't see that. Everything about how your magic presented was exactly how Monica predicted it would.”

Stiles said, “It's not an issue. Scott would have made me give up flying and I wasn't having any of that. I'm kinda glad you pushed for me to accept this, actually. But you're still not getting any scales.”

Lydia grinned, “You don't feel any different, do you? You certainly don't sound any different.”

“I feel like I missed a dose of Adderall, but besides that, I feel fine.”

“The transformation from human to were-creature didn't feel strange?”

Stiles capped the last of his bullets. Two full clips should be more than enough. Slime had gotten all over his hands and all over Lydia's too, but it didn't affect either of them. It didn't even tingle. Stiles paused for a second to think about how to answer Lydia's question, and to watch the prismatic slime shimmer atop his hands.

“My experience is not typical, of course, but nothing really seems 'off' about my thinking or actions. There was no 'hatching' like in the Argent's bestiary. This inner-magic seems to have solidified who I was into who I am. Kinda like taking a hunk of iron, adding carbon, and reforging it into steel.”

 

Stiles fingered a little silver rock inscribed with a warding eye that Alan had given him. It was supposed to protect from bullets but not much else. Scott seemed to think that the little silver stone worked really well, so Stiles put the stone into his pocket and tried not to question why Alan was so reluctant to help before now.

It was getting really difficult to reign in that instinct to call Alan out on all his bullshit.

Later, when they weren't in mortal danger, Stiles and Alan were probably going to have a long chat.

But for now, Stiles slung his brand-new goo-loaded rifle over his shoulder and checked the ten-shot cartridge in his other pocket.

Scott and Jackson had finished fixing Lydia's invisibility ring to the top of Alan's car minutes ago. The rest of the Pack and Alan had already gotten inside the vehicle. Stiles was the last one to go. Lydia sat in the front seat with Alan as the driver. Peter, Isaac, Danny, and Jackson crammed into the back seats as well as they were able. Scott, Derek, and Stiles hung onto the roof rack and the invisibility ring.

The seedpod of remaining goo sat wrapped in plastic in the very back of the car.

 

Stiles cut the rain off a minute after they left the house. The sky remained dark. It would probably take a few hours for the clouds to dissipate.

Everything naturally seemed to avoid them or get out of their way as they drove without care for stoplights, pedestrians, or other vehicles.

Stiles said, “ _Damn_. Wait. Nope. Flying is still better than avoiding traffic.”

Derek smiled, “I would have loved to do this in New York. The traffic there is horrible.”

 

Stiles banged on the roof when they were two miles away from Monica's house. Alan stopped the car.

Alan said, “What is it?”

Lydia said, “Should we stop here, Stiles?”

Scott said, “Why are we stopping? I can't see anything.”

Stiles pointed at a thick line of were-magic stretching across the road, “Can you see that?”

Derek said, “I can't see anything.”

Stiles said, “It's a line of inner-magic stretching across the road. Demetrio is a giant spider. I guess he spins detection-lines like a spider does.”

Alan said, “I guess we're stopping here.”

Alan pulled the car to the side of the road. Everyone got out.

Peter said, “Giant spider, eh?”

Jackson and Lydia involuntarily shivered.

Danny scowled at Jackson, “When this is over, I'm going to savor every moment of your irrational fear.”

Scott sounded exasperated, “ _Daaannyyy_ y.”

Danny said, “What? Jackson murdered my pet tarantula four years ago.”

Jackson shivered, “I'd say I'm sorry, but then you'd get another one.”

Danny said, “I hope Demetrio really is as huge as a house. He'll be an easier target to hit.”

Jackson sputtered, “Yes... an easier... target.”

Derek said, “Focus, everyone. We're in hostile territory.”

Isaac said, “So... what do we do? We go and poke at the invisible detection-line and he comes to us?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That thing I said about plot bunnies getting away from me and mutating into reproductive superheroes?  
> Well, two of them got out. They're both male though. So, while they might try, they shouldn't get very far reproductive-wise.
> 
> Don't lose heart! There will (probably) be a happy ending!  
> 


	15. Lydia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get resolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of the main story.

They weren't on the edge of Beacon Hills for very long. After carefully avoiding Demetrio's web, they moved into the forest for the final two mile trek towards Monica's house. Lydia carried the half-full seedpod of goo. Alan carried a staff. Stiles had his appropriated gun. Everyone else had their claws.

Stiles took point because he could see the invisible strings of inner magic woven through the area around Demetrio's web.

That decision made sense. Lydia accepted that choice as the correct course of action.

But, as Stiles pointed out concealed hunters and Lydia tied them up with vines before they or the Pack could react, and the rest of the Pack grew ever more childish with insults over dead tarantulas and Scott and Isaac possibly fucking, Lydia couldn't help but think both how nice it will be when she graduated highschool.

Besides thinking of the various ways in which a house sized spider would be horrific, Lydia stepped softly and kept her magic at the ready. As Lydia constructed yet-another-pathway across Demetrio's invisible detection lines, she concentrated on dismissing her fear of spiders.

_This is pathetic, Lydia Martin. This is not acceptable._

_Why am I terrified of spiders?_

_I have died and transcended my old body._

_All my old, logical reasons for being scared of spiders are now gone. I'm immune to poisons and toxins of all kinds, so a spider can't actually disfigure or kill me like they could have. I could probably even take a trip to Australia and not be freaked out by every little bug everywhere._

_I_ will _take a trip to Australia._

… _But I'll skip swimming in the Great Barrier Reef. No need to go looking for Cthulhu just yet._

_Fucking spiders. Fucking alphas. I am so done with this shit._

Lydia smiled, glanced at Jackson who instantly smiled back, and raised another bridge at Stiles's behest.

_I am going to fuck you so hard, Jackson Whittemore. Oh yeah._

Scott said, “Why haven't we seen any real resistance, yet?”

Stiles said, “Monica is somewhere in there, but it's impossible for me to tell.”

Lydia stopped stepping softly and started getting mad, “We have one giant spider, one normal alpha, one mage, and a bunch of hunters in our way. And the hunters have been rendered useless because of Alan's charms. We're less than a mile out. Demetrio hears us, but he isn't moving. Give me a reason we aren't 'storming the castle' a bit more forcefully, because I can't see one.”

Scott said, “He has hostages.”

Lydia stopped walking forward, everyone else gradually stopped too.

Lydia quietly said, “Stiles, do you think our parents are with Demetrio?”

Stiles said, “No. I've kept an eye on them. They're either at the station, or at the Hale House. I don't know who Demetrio's hostages are.”

Lydia said, “And why would he do that? Why not have his best hostages with him?”

Stiles said, “Because he isn't expecting us. Maybe he thought we wouldn't come right away.”

Lydia said, “Thinking that way seems a bit simplistic, but it might be the truth.”

Scott said, “He still has people's lives to threaten us with. I won't sacrifice them for an easy victory.”

Lydia said, “Do you want your pride and your morality, Scott? Or do you want this to be over? I'm tired of being scared to act.”

Scott said, “Could you do a 'field of poppies' thing, like in The Wizard of Oz?”

Lydia huffed, “Peter had me grow some of those kind to knock out Derek for Peter's resurrection. I'm surprised I didn't think of that.”

Alan said, “Monica will just counter that effect.”

Lydia said, “But will it keep her busy?”

Alan said, “Probably.”

Lydia said, “How about you counter the effect of the flowers on our party, then? Without Monica's assistance, Demetrio is outnumbered quite a bit.”

Alan said, “Sounds like a plan.”

 

Lydia walked forward, glanced back at Alan and his glowing white staff, and set to work.

_A mile out from Demetrio and his lair shouldn't be too much to cover. He has to hear us by now. His faculties couldn't be that diminished without the rest of his pack, could they?_

Lydia carried no wolfsbane seeds with her, but that was unnecessary for this kind of magic. She concentrated on the natural growth underfoot and converted the blades of grass and ferns into sleepy blue wolfsbane.

In prismatic flashes, Lydia stepped forward onto a forest floor of blue wolfsbane designed to induce sleep in werewolves. A gentle breeze rolled through the forest and scattered the scent and pollen of a million flowers into the air. Alan, Stiles, and Lydia were the only ones that didn't react to the smell.

Peter sneezed, “That's much stronger than the one I showed you.”

Isaac coughed, “It's not dangerous, is it?”

Lydia stretched her arms wide and felt her magic bounce against Monica's wards. Lydia surprised herself with the ease of the growth. Transforming wolfsbane all the way to Monica's house was not as difficult as Lydia thought it would be.

Lydia turned back to the Pack, “This is not a directly lethal wolfsbane, Isaac. There is nothing to worry about with regard to your life. Stiles, what do you see?”

Stiles said, “You- You _ripped_ through most of the web. They know we're here now.”

Lydia said, “What else?”

Stiles said, “Your magic is being pushed back by Monica. A few turning werewolves are collapsing to the ground. The other alpha, Cassandra, is stumbling around. And Demetrio is moving slower and slower.”

Scott said, “This is our chance.”

Stiles and Derek rushed forward. The Pack followed. Lydia and Alan remained in sight of the Pack but kept a slower pace than everyone else.

 _We can't run that fast. We're only human, after all_.

Lydia smiled at how pathetically imprecise the label of 'human' was when there were so many sentient beings in the world that looked and acted 'human'. Lydia didn't even know if she was 'human' anymore.

_Is a laboratory grown diamond the same as one taken from the earth?_

_Is a human grown in a test-tube, still a human?_

_I guess it all comes back to that first lesson, doesn't it, Monica? There are no right answers, only what I choose to believe is right. That's just how reality and magic is, sometimes._

Alan huffed out, “This's too easy.”

Lydia spoke, knowing Stiles could hear, “Don't take his memories yet. Paralyze him first. There's still a trap in there even if we do this right.”

Stiles called out, “Monica is running away! Score one for us!”

 

Stiles and Derek's momentum slowed as they reached a massive spiderwebbed part of the forest, but with Stiles as their guide, they kept rushing forward. White spider silk fully covered the surrounding trees and blocked out most of light that made it through the dark clouds above. Imagining thousands of tiny spiders crawling from the web sent chills racing down Lydia's spine.

Lydia concentrated on her flowers. She kept the fear at bay while she pulled blue wolfsbane up from the silk-covered ground. Without Monica to counteract Lydia's magic, they walked into a flowered grove of spiderweb and cocooned victims.

In the darkness at the center of the field of blue and spiderwebs sat an eight-legged black monster that dwarfed the trees with its size. A dozen lidless eyes radiated blood-red light from above a cavernous mouth full of fangs.

Lydia zoned out until she heard a gunshot.

Stiles shot the thing in its abdomen a second time. Its legs swiped out and missed as the monster fell back down onto the field of flowers. No one moved forward while the creature grunted. The spider's movements slowed with each passing moment. As it stopped, Lydia regained her fortitude.

It was still breathing. The goo-bullets were working. It was paralyzed.

Scott said, “Where is the other alpha?”

Stiles pointed to the other side of the grove, “Over there.” Stiles shot Demetrio again. He didn't move this time. “Should I shoot him a fourth time to be sure?”

Scott said. “I think he's down. Shoot the other alpha, though. Don't do anything else. Can you cut the flowers out, Lydia? Alan's getting tired.”

Stiles shot the other alpha in the leg. She woke up for half a second before she fell back down, paralyzed.

Lydia glanced towards Alan. The older man pumped out light as fast as it dissipated. Lydia quickly worked her magic backwards. The field of blue went down into the ground and came back up as grass. Alan relaxed and took a deep breath.

Alan said, “You're rather strong, Lydia.”

Lydia said, “Thanks.”

Danny walked next to a cocooned hunter, “These are all turned hunters. What are we going to do with them? Would they all want to kill themselves like Victoria did?”

Stiles said, “This was too easy. When I went to rescue Jackson there were four different traps besides the alpha pack themselves. They tried to cage me behind a mountain ash barrier. They strung cables to Jackson's metal cage so I couldn't use lightning. Jackson was already pouring out goo by then, so I couldn't just take him. And then Jackson turned all the way into a Kanima when his IVs dislodged.”

The spider's gravely voice echoed in the webbed grove, “How about a truce?”

Lydia reacted with a burst of power. Tangling vines sprang from the earth and wrapped Demetrio's body to the ground. Lydia wasn't going to kill him, but an extra few layers of containment were always a good idea.

Demetrio spoke again, his voice a bit strained, “I'll even take these almost-werewolves off of your hands. You're not going to kill innocents, are you?”

Scott said, “Good job with the vines, Lydia.” Scott turned towards Demetrio, “You took our families from us. We want them back.”

Isaac stared into the surrounding forest for half a second before he rushed away from the conversation with Demetrio. He called out, “Erica and Boyd! They're over here!”

Stiles lowered his rifle and followed Isaac.

Demetrio said, “Do you see? I kept your betas intact. The rest of your families are but a phone call away. Bring them here and I'll reverse what I have done.”

Scott said, “And give you more hostages? We're not stupid enough to fall for that.”

Demetrio said, “Then how are you going to save them?”

Scott said, “We'll take them from you and repair them ourselves.”

Realization struck.

Lydia called out, “Stop, Stiles! That's the trap.”

Stiles came back into Lydia's view, “What?”

Lydia said, “This is another goo-covered cage. You were talking about hallucinating a voice earlier, weren't you? Extra memories inside of a person tends to cause hallucinations. Reorienting Boyd and Erica might be safe, but trying to take everyone else out of Demetrio is exactly his plan.”

Demetrio shook the ground with laughter, “You're rather quick, Lydia Martin. I usually have to educate my prey of these facts before they'll realize winning is impossible. And even then, some of them still try. I've torn three different packs apart controlling the body of their own alpha. It was glorious each time.”

No one spoke while Demetrio's words sunk in. Lydia tried to think of a solution.

Demetrio said, “What, pray tell, are you going to do? If you kill me you lose any chance at getting your loved ones back. If you try to take them from me, you'll be corrupted yourself. Even tangled up and paralyzed, I still have more power than you. You. Can't. Win.”

Demetrio rumbled the grove as he laughed.

Lydia tried to think. Nothing came to mind. No solutions presented themselves.

Then Peter walked over to Cassandra's paralyzed body. In two quick motions, his claws came down and her head rolled across the silk-covered ground.

Demetrio cried out, “Murderer! Spawn of evil! Cassandra never hurt any of you!”

Demetrio's head rocked back and forth as he wailed plaintive cries into the dark grove. His legs twitched, but Demetrio couldn't move. Peter's eyes burned dark red as he turned towards the rest of the pack.

Peter said, “Ah. That feels much better.”

Scott yelled, “She was defenseless!”

Lydia said, “You'd let her walk away and come back to kill again, like how you let Gerard walk away, Scott? Don't be fooled by Demetrio's cries. He's eliciting your natural tendency to forgo killing. He's getting into your head with blatant lies. Cassandra did hurt someone. She hurt Isaac.”

Demetrio said, “No she didn't! I'm not evil! I'd go away if you let me!”

Scott backed away, “That's not... But-”

Derek interrupted Scott, “What are you going to do, Peter?”

Peter smiled, “If you let the monsters under your skin, their lies can become the truth. It's a very basic principle of magic, Derek. As for what I am going to do, it has a lot to do with that basic rule. I plan on doing what I know none of you can. As soon as Demetrio warned of the danger of taking his memories from him, you all instantly believed him. Which is sad, really.” Peter turned towards Lydia, “Even Lydia thought Demetrio was telling the truth for a moment. Magic has no hard and fast rules. It's all about belief. And if Lydia concocts some psychedelic wolfsbane to shatter Demetrio's consciousness, I'll have a much easier opponent when I go to rescue your families from Demetrio's mind.”

Jackson said, “You'd do that? Risk yourself? Why? You hate us.”

Peter said, “I don't hate you. I think most of you are children in both thought and action, but you're learning. What is a pack for, but to help each other out? I'd almost have to be some sort of _monster_ to not help out my Pack when I'm, apparently, the only one able to do the job.”

_Peter could do it. I have no doubt of that. But will he fix everyone back to how they were?_

Lydia said, “Do you want a specific wolfsbane, Peter? How about that one that forces hallucinations of a person's darkest fears? I've gotten much stronger with that one, too.”

Peter said, “That would be perfect, Lydia.”

Lydia flicked her hands in Demetrio's direction. The vines sprung thorns and small blue flowers. Blood mixed with blue petals.

Demetrio grunted out, “You can be a part of my alpha Pack, Peter. You don't have to side with your current Pack. They're weak. I'm strong. We could go on a rampage to Argent headquarters and rip out their spines for your revenge.”

Peter, and the rest of the Pack, watched and listened as Demetrio's promises grew darker and more violent. Demetrio promised them the world and power over everyone.

Demetrio threatened to erase the memories he held inside.

Peter informed the Pack that erasing memories is possible, but the data is still there. If Demetrio were to erase them, Peter could reconstruct them.

None of Demetrio's threats or promises held any weight.

As Demetrio realized this, and as the flowers took effect, he tried a new tactic. Demetrio shuddered. His form collapsed as he shrunk down to human size. The thorns no longer stabbed into his body, but he remained paralyzed. Lydia dismissed the vines back into the ground.

Demetrio said, “Don't hurt me. I'll be good.”

Peter, a smile on his face and confidence in his stride, stepped towards Demetrio.

Peter said, “He's ready.”

Scott said, “This is horrible.”

Derek said, “It's necessary.”

Stiles said, “Are you good to do this, Peter?”

Peter said, “I talked to my brother about being an alpha all the time. The few hints you gave me are more than enough for a comprehensive lesson.”

Demetrio said, “Please don't hurt me. I'll be good.”

Isaac turned away and took off running past the sleeping bodies of Boyd and Erica. Scott nodded at Peter before chasing after Isaac.

Peter said, “You'll have a long life with your pack members, Demetrio. You'll just be a tree instead of a person.”

Demetrio cried, “Where are you, Morgan? I can't feel you inside of me with everyone else...”

Peter was the only one near enough to see Demetrio's face, half buried in spider's silk. The Pack remained on the edge of the webbed grove. A whine echoed in the air as Peter knelt next to Demetrio.

Lydia watched, her attention never wavering, as Peter clutched Demetrio's neck.

 

Stiles had already stripped and shifted into a dragon. Either Stiles was really good at hiding the pain of transformation, or there was no pain. Lydia hoped for the later.

Scott had come back with Isaac before Peter finished whatever it was he was doing inside of Demetrio's mind. Isaac had been crying. Even his healing ability couldn't hide the puffiness in his face.

_Why was he...? Oh. A child of abuse. Right._

_I guess lies can still be triggering, no matter how blatant they are._

Peter stood up without making a sound. Lydia's attention rapidly returned to Peter's location. She was ready with coiled vines bulging beneath the ground if Peter wasn't himself.

Stiles broke the silence, “You're still Peter, right?”

Peter blinked as he looked at the Pack, “Demetrio struggled there for a moment, but he couldn't actually put up a fight.”

Lydia said, “Tell us something Peter would say.”

Peter grinned at Lydia, “Lydia... I know you understand that If I wasn't myself, there would be no way for you to tell the difference. But since you ask, it must be for other people's benefit. So. I will try to approximate myself to you in a few dozen words.” Peter stepped away from Demetrio's unconscious form, “The alpha pack were the biggest bad-guys out there for the last century, but now they're gone. This Pack now has five alphas and a mage that could become a wizard one day. Why would I do anything to jeopardize my safety, or my current position in the world's strongest Pack, by going AWOL after my revenge, when the Argents will eventually come after us instead?”

Stiles said, “That's rather Peter.”

Peter added, “Unless you want go around erasing us from these hunters' memories, the Argents are going to eventually come here.”

Derek said, “You killed everyone involved in the fire. Why can't you let it go?”

Peter said, “How about this, Derek? We can go to counseling together and pour out our feelings to a stranger. When you get over it, I will too.”

Derek said nothing.

Lydia filled the silence, “Just a moment, Stiles, and I'll have our transportation ready. How are you doing with a few dozen more people in your head, Peter?”

Lydia raised her hands to the sky. Vines shot from the ground and ripped the spider-silk from the roof of the grove before twisting into a ski-lift around Demetrio.

Peter said, “They're like movie reels. I have them stored away so they don't infect the rest.”

Lydia said, “Catch anything fascinating in there?”

“I didn't catch much that I wasn't aiming for.” Peter walked towards the nearest Bitten hunter, “Hm. This one didn't survive the Bite.” Peter looked at Scott, “There you go, Scott. A convenient moral excuse to deal out this harshness to Demetrio and his alpha pack. All wrapped up in a nice little spider-silk package, too.”

Scott said, “Stop making fun of me because I chose the morally right path. My thinking builds civilizations. All you want to do is burn the world. I'd build a family. All you want to do it kill the Argents. Which one of us is going to have a better life? The one that sees good in the world, or the one that only sees blood?”

_Oh, Scott. Peter's going to say something about you mom being inside of him, and you're going to overreact._

_Although. I don't think an overreaction would really be overreacting, in this case._

Peter said, “Fair enough, Scott. Care to leave it at that, and let time tell us the answer?”

Scott grumbled, “Fine.”

Lydia smiled as she walked past Peter and onto the ski-lift, “Stiles, care to go? I'd like to just finish this. Peter looks like he's good to go.”

“Yeah. I'm ready. You guys going to clean up the town?”

Peter said, “And Alan's little silver stones will make that a rather trivial task. See you at the house, Stiles.”

Stiles nodded at Peter while walking towards Lydia. Stiles hopped into the air and latched on to the heavy wooden arch of the pseudo-ski-lift. Lydia withered the roots attaching the apparatus to the ground and Stiles lifted them into the cloudy sky.

 

The trip to the were-garden didn't take very long.

Stiles landed the transportation onto the willow's trunk. Demetrio hadn't said a word this whole time.

Lydia said, “Do you really think this is still Demetrio? You don't think Demetrio switched bodies with Peter, do you?”

Stiles said, “I think this is still Demetrio. Peter's pack-bond never changed. It's still the same, even now. The size of Peter's inner-magic doubled when he killed Cassandra, but after that, it didn't change. This guy is still an enormous bundle of inner magic bigger than any three of us in the Pack. I doubt Demetrio would leave this much power in his old body.”

Lydia sighed, “That's really good news. Thank you, Stiles. By the way. If I'm not able to tell you this someday. I want you to know that, if we ever need to get any of these guys back, if Demetrio did pull a fast one on us, you could bring them back. All you'd have to do is destroy this willow tree and all of it's warding eyes. You'd release every single werewolf here. They shouldn't be alphas, so that's some good news.”

Stiles said, “Yeah. I figured that. Tell me, why did you want to do it this way, anyway? You can't access any of this knowledge, can you?”

Lydia said, “Nope. I can't. But I also can't destroy thousands of lifetimes of gathered memories and knowledge when it could, eventually, go to a good use. Someday, you, or anyone else, might want to come back here and learn something.”

“Couldn't we have just thrown Demetrio in here in the first place, and then gotten the memories out?”

“You and I both know that, and Peter knows that we know that, and Peter might be tricking us, but trust has to start somewhere. Letting him do this will let the rest of the Pack trust him, even if we don't. Peter really does want a family and a Pack again. Could Peter have lied to me about that desire? Yes. He could have. But besides all of that, Peter won't do anything rash when there are four other alphas around to keep him in line.”

“But he's an alpha again. He couldn't handle it before.”

“So is Danny, so are you, so is Scott. But the danger is over. Peter has already killed everyone directly related to the fire. Every murder past those he has already committed puts him on Chris's radar. Peter will bide his time until a clear opportunity presents itself. This means we have time to help him get better so that he never reverts to his old ways. You should convince Derek to go to counseling with Peter. It would be good for everyone.”

“I know. I was already going to ask him about it. But can you imagine talking to a psychologist about any of this? They'd think we're crazy. Sometimes I think we're crazy.”

Lydia smiled, “Monica became a psychologist specifically to help iron out werewolf issues. I'm sure there are other qualified people out there that won't instantly think we're all crazy. Speaking of, did you see where she went?”

“Not exactly. She ran really fast. I think she went south. Oh my god. What are we going to do with a dozen freshly Bitten hunters?”

“We have tomorrow to figure that out. Let's do this and hurry back.”

 

Stiles pulled Demetrio from the ski-lift and placed him onto the trunk of the willow. Lydia wrapped Demetrio and the seedpod of slime into a cradle of vines. She slowly lowered them to the floor of the were-garden.

Demetrio said, “Morgan? Yes. I can hear you, Morgan. And Gertrude, too? You were here? I thought I lost you. I have everyone else with me. We're ready to go home now... We're already home? Oh. That's good. Yes, Morgan. I'd like to try again.”

Demetrio came to rest against a tangle of huge roots. Lydia erased the warding eyes on the willow in one stomp of her foot. The forest shook, groaned, and pulled Demetrio inside.

Lydia cascaded warding eyes all across the willow's trunk while Stiles stepped back and watched. She embedded warding eyes into the very nature of the central willow, ensuring the health of the tree and the integrity of the surrounding forest.

The were-garden calmed and stopped moving. The trees and plants shifted into a hundred shades of red.

As a final step, Lydia circled the entire forest with wards against intruders. She barred entry with one set, made the were-garden invisible with another, and made people avoid the land altogether with a third.

Stiles gripped the ski-lift and circled into the sky while Lydia sat and watched the forest fall away. As they left the edge of the were-garden behind, the forest flashed like a mirage. The towering willow vanished from sight and the trees turned green.

 

The Pack was back at the Hale House, their jobs all done too, by the time Stiles and Lydia landed in the front circle. Stiles found a pile of clothes on the front porch waiting for him. His transformation dissipated in plumes of white smoke and by the time the cloud vanished, he was already dressed.

Melissa and Scott opened the front door and threw their arms wide to hug Stiles. Lydia found herself pulled into the hug too. It wasn't exactly desired, but it was nice.

In a corner of the living room, Peter and Derek discussed serious issues by themselves, well away from everyone else. Stiles gave Derek a quizzical look. Derek didn't move from his conversation with Peter, but he did smile towards Stiles.

Jed walked out of the bathroom. Stiles spent a second staring and hoping before Jed closed the gap between them with a hug.

Peter said, “Your parents don't know anything, Lydia. If you want that to change, I can change that. But I thought you might like it better this way.”

Lydia said, “I'll tell them someday. Thanks for the consideration, Peter.”

Lydia couldn't stand to see Stiles and Jed hugging and blubbering over each other anymore. It was nice for Stiles, but she needed to find Jackson.

In the kitchen, Isaac was all smiles and laughter as he and Erica and Boyd set to baking the rest of the cookie batter that they had made that morning. Lydia nodded to them. They smiled and nodded back.

Danny and Jackson surprised Lydia as they walked down the stairs together.

Lydia rushed into Jackson's arms.

After a moment, she pulled Danny into the hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this final chapter!  
> That was a really bumpy ride there for a while.. 
> 
> This story is done for now.  
> When I feel like it, I will go back and edit the whole thing. But that might not be for a while. 
> 
> If you'd like to, you can follow me at: arcs-of-light.tumblr.com
> 
> ... Do you think I can remove the major character death tag? I think I can, but I don't know if it would be in bad taste.  
> I'm actually amazed no one really died.


End file.
